


Mysterious Heart, Gifted Miracles

by Scriberat



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Angst, Drowning, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt, ask to tag, tags coming with chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27160924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriberat/pseuds/Scriberat
Summary: Kuja survives. Now he has the entire world around him and scars across it caused by him and his now aching heart as the realities of what he had done set in.
Relationships: Amarant Coral/Lani, Beatrix/Adelbert Steiner, Garnet Til Alexandros XVII/Zidane Tribal
Comments: 16
Kudos: 18





	1. The First Miracle

Kuja lay there. He wasn’t sure for how long, or for what reason he was still alive. By all rights, he should have been dead by now. And yet… He sighed, hoping to expel his last breath, yet such expulsion did not grace him. Perhaps it was for the best. What sort of character, hero or villain, sighed to death from boredom and disappointment? It could be an interesting way to go out, in the right conditions. These most certainly were not. This was a time for him to die with regret for all he had done.

He could count them, feeling them inside himself. Thousands of people, thousands of lives, millions of stolen moments. What right had he to take them?

He had had no right, not since the beginning of it all, and he had to face the fact that he had become a monster, the villain, the one defeated at the end of the play, much to the rejoicing of the audience. His brother whom he had hated had been the hero, one whom Kuja, himself, had created. There was no truer fact of this life. Zidane was the hero because Kuja wanted to be his father’s angel. To think he would become a demon in the end.

Another sigh escaped his lips. Regret was truly the emotion of the hour. Others pummeled him, maybe, but he was desolate inside, emptier than he had ever been, yet there were remnants of something inside him. Perhaps Kuja could have lived a normal life, had he given his all to creating instead of destroying. He was made to destroy by his father. Wouldn’t it have been more spiteful to live a beautiful life? To break free of the chains in a different way?

More regrets, as the potential of the world’s offers compounded in his head. Kuja felt wetness by his eyes. Had he been hit again? Bahamut wasn’t here. No one was here. It was only him and the emptiness and regret. How sad.

How pathetic.

He would die, and that was the end of it. No use upsetting himself further. The end was coming.

No! Kuja grit his teeth as something else pounded inside him and made his heart race. He couldn’t die, not yet. Not yet not yet not yet not yet! He had to get up, do something! He had to! He had to!

He couldn’t do a damned thing. There was no way out of this one. Still…

Kuja got up. He had to, he had to, he had to survive. He didn’t know what spurred him on, didn’t understand, just left his final resting place. With a whistle, he managed to summon one of his beautiful silver dragons, so like himself, sleek, graceful, majestic — the exact opposite of how he was currently feeling. Shaking hands and a harried pace kept him from mounting. His eyes detached from his sight, as if there was a glass wall between him and the world before him, his hands that were and were not his hands reached for its back, lifted him up, and the dragon went home.

It was an hours long trip, maybe 3, maybe 30, maybe only 1. He couldn’t tell as the world started slipping away, just a little. His mouth whispered something to the dragon, something he barely understood, but when they arrived at the Desert Palace where he had made his home for so long, Kuja figured it out. The dragon landed on the outer balcony of a previously unused room, another lab, so like his father’s and so not like it all the same. He hadn’t been able to get it to work, but it seemed that the Terran side lab had been sucking its power. Screens were lit, everything was raring to go.

With stuttering feet and a lurching gait, Kuja shambled to the main control unit. His father had never taught him this, but he soon figured out how to navigate, searched through menu after menu, file after file, his heart beating wildly with a refusal to die, until he found it.

“It” was his. His file. His program. His DNA, in a way. Kuja opened it fervently and searched through the lines of code until he found what he was looking for, only a few hundred lines down.

“Sorry, _Father_. It seems I was made to rebel against you to the very end.” Sitting on the screen was a line detailing his shortened lifespan, showing the years he had to live. But he didn’t know how to reverse it. Kuja cursed, feeling himself fade. He had to restore his life! He had to, had to, had to…!

He looked through the options and found a restore option for the last saved point. Praying to whatever god would bother with his cursed existence, Kuja clicked it. Skirting back to that line, he saw that it no longer mentioned years for the body to exist. Still… He was weakened from Trancing, and weaker still from his brother and those friends of his nearly killing him.

Lifespan restored. He had done it.

When Kuja next awoke, it was to the sight of a strange man’s face.

“Och, he’s awake!” the man said, grinning. Kuja squinted in confusion and looked at him.  
  


“Who are you? And where have I ended up?” This was highly unusual. He usually knew when and where he drifted off.

“Yer dragon came flying in out of the blue and landed in the middle of town, dropped you off and nudged ya toward us, then took off. We’ve been nursing ya back to health the past few days,” he said. Kuja stared at him uncomprehendingly as his mind slowly caught up with that. The man waited for him to understand.

“… I see.” He realized belatedly that neither question had actually been answered, but at least he knew how he got here. The man seemed to realize it at the same time.

“My name is Walter Teamaker. I was asked to watch over you for the time being.”  
  
“Right…” Kuja tried to sit up and felt dizzy.  
  
“Easy there! Don’t go falling, now, lad.” Walter set him down and pressed a cool cloth to Kuja forehead. “Try again slowly.”

He tried again slowly and winced at the pain in his body. Walter handed him a cup of tea. _How predictable,_ Kuja thought, sipping it. It was delicious, and he soon downed the cup as if it was his last meal.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t! Kuja had succeeded, and he was alive and immortal, as he had been before. Still, something felt strange, an aching inside him. He tried to write it off as part of the pain that ached dully over his entire body, even as he knew that that wasn’t what it was.

“How are you feeling?” Walter asked.

“Better than I have in awhile. Thank you for the tea. I suppose I ought to get moving.” Dragon or no dragon, he wanted to go somewhere, almost on instinct — again. Despite that wish, Walter kept him from getting up.

“You need ta rest more. If ye get up too soon, ye’ll succeed only in doing more harm to yourself. Besides, I can hardly let you into Conde Petie without giving the proper greeting!”

“Greeting?” Conde Petie? That strange village that had cropped up on the roots of the Iifa Tree? So he was back around this area, huh?

“Rally ho!” Walter suddenly cried. Kuja winced from the unexpected loudness and nodded.  
  


“Rally ho,” he said quietly, a little dizzy from a simple yell. That was… not at all a good sign.

“More power!” Walter demanded.

“I haven’t got more power at the moment,” Kuja replied shortly.

“Which means you need ta rest! It’s important to know when to rest, and with the shape you were in when you arrived, you seem to have forgotten that.” Walter smiled kindly and refilled the cup. Kuja sighed and took it, sipping on his tea. He started asking Walter questions, quickly finding the man to be quite chatty.

Evidently, his brother had come this way some months ago. That sucked. Kuja found himself in an odd place between wanting to hear about it and not. On the one hand, his brother had nearly killed him, which seemed suiting given that Kuja had tried several times to kill him before that, both of which made him not want to hear it. On the other, Zidane hadn’t given up on him, not a single time. Through all the memories Kuja had of him, he had such beautiful and loving eyes, always looking for the best in people and seeking ways to draw that out of them.

“Tell me more about him. I must say, I’m interested in hearing about this monkey-tailed madman and his friends.”

“Is that because you have the same tail?” Walter asked. Kuja froze, then threw the blanket aside and stared at the long, gorgeous, silvery tail that was attached to him. He squinted at it, his brow furrowed, his mind couldn’t comprehend how it had gotten there.

“What…”

“Is it surprising?”

“It certainly wasn’t there before,” he said. Walter shrugged.

“Congrats on the new tail!” he said. Kuja flicked it curiously. What had he pressed that day…? It was a proper reset, right? Or… He froze. He had hit _factory reset_ , hadn’t he? Then this must be the body which Garland had originally made for him, from top to bottom. What… What did he look like!?

“Do you have a mirror?” Kuja asked. Walter nodded and got up to fetch a handled hand mirror, then held it out to him. Kuja took it and looked at his face, first.

The makeup was gone, which made sense. Not like it was meant to last, but that would have to return. He looked damn good in red wings. His hair had darkened just a little, going from the silvery white he was used to to just silvery, though it had a better sheen after some constant care while his body was being remade. For a brief moment, Kuja wondered what products would maintain it. Then he moved on from the face that was the same as ever, down to the rest of his body.

It was the same. It was exactly the same as before save for the tail. Kuja sighed in relief. After all, his body was basically perfection, just the right height and build to be intimidating and unassuming at the same time. Who would be able to compete with him?

Then again, Zidane had beaten him in a fight, and it wasn’t like he was the best person to be around before…

“Thank you,” he said, shaking himself out of his reverie. “That was helpful.” He handed the mirror back and stretched, then tried to stand up, feeling a little dizzy still.  
  
“Try to sit for now. Here, have a scone for the tea.” Walter handed him a plate with the scone atop it and smiled kindly. Kuja accepted the offer and ate, surprised at how his body felt. After all this time, it seemed that what it wanted most was food. That reminded him…

All his life, he had had a purpose to living, something that gave him meaning and a reason to be alive the next day. For 11 years of his life, it had been killing on command for his creator. Then that night came, when he took Zidane on a little field trip and left him to rot in Lindblum. He should have killed him, but if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to see him one last time, but he hadn’t planned to see him again. Kuja would have destroyed the world if not for that decision so many years ago. The only ones able to stop him were led by Zidane. So much rode on that point in time, when he had wanted to prove himself a superior being, capable of killing or not on his own whims. Had he just been too scared?

He chuckled to himself and continued eating. Walter cocked his head.

“Nothing,” Kuja said, before Walter could ask. “I remembered something funny from before, though funny it would hardly be in anyone’s context but my own and I don’t care to explain it all.”

“I understand. Sometimes life brings us through trials and torments we are unprepared for. Detaching from the situation may be the best thing for you. Stay awhile in our village,” Walter said. “This bed is empty most of the time, anyway.”

“A guest room?” Kuja asked. Walter shook his head.

“Son. He just got married recently.”

“I suppose he went to whatever is left of the Iifa Tree?”

“Is that what you call it? I was saddened by its death. My people feared for some time that it meant the end of the world.”

_It was meant to_ , Kuja thought dryly. “When did it collapse?” He had no clue how much time had passed since he had passed out several times during his journey around.

“About a year ago, now,” Walter said. Kuja spat out his tea.

“That long!?” How had that happened!? He couldn’t have been passed out and nearly dead amongst its roots long enough for an entire year to have passed!

“Yes, I know. It’s surprising for me, as well, especially since so many people seemed so adamant about either controlling or destroying it at one point.” He shrugged. “Ah, well. Time passes and the future is today.”

When had an entire year passed!? “That it does. Is there a way to get to the other continents from here?” He usually flew, but he had a feeling that, after a _year,_ he didn’t really have any silver dragons left.

“There’s a way on the south side of this area.” Walter gave him directions to Fossil Roo. Kuja nodded and went back to resting.

He spent several days there, lounging, languid, at some points pretending to be worse off than he was to garner some sympathy and have things done for him. The children of the village often came to visit, or tried to. Kuja shooed them away every time. He was unhappy that he was such an attraction. It was often a benefit, and even highly enjoyable, but at this moment, it became a tedious problem. Still, on his “good days” when he decided to leave the house, he would go about and end up with a cloud of tiny dwarves hovering round his ankles and getting their hands on his skirt and boots. His precious boots had survived the trip, and thank the stars, they were expensive and there was no way he could simply get them replaced.

Especially since he had killed his favorite cobbler in the Bahamut raid on Alexandria.

One of the children tugged on his skirt. Kuja turned to look at her. “What do you want?” he asked, a little rough. Tiny hooligans running around causing problems. He preferred the nobility method of hiring someone else to keep them out of sight.

“Um. Where did you get such pretty hair?”

This one had good taste. He flicked it and smiled. “Good genetics and proper care. There are hair products that can give it a gloss and shine like you’ll never see without.”

Her eyes glistened from the sound of that. “Awesome…!”

“Mr.! What are genetics?”

“You…” Right. That had been Terran knowledge, that the body had strands of code at the center of every cell telling them how to be constructed and act. To think that even subatomic requirements of existence would be so demanded at higher levels. Kuja hummed, trying to think of how to explain it. If they wanted knowledge that only he could give them, then he would be their teacher.

“Genes are bits of code, instructions within each of us, telling our bodies how to construct themselves. They work with what the parent material is to form something new. That’s why you have your parents’ features.” And why his face was so totally unique. No parents, no shared traits. Despite the mass production of genomes, Garland had made sure each had a unique face, so their souls would be able to tell one another apart.

“Wow! How do they do it?”

“One must assume that that’s part of the code, that, under specific conditions, the genes activate automatically.”

“Oooooh~” the kids chorused. Kuja smiled.

“So then, we must have dwarf genes, and you have other genes!”

“Precisely.” And apparently his original genes accounted for a tail. The children were enamoured with this knowledge and ran off to discuss it, inadvertently leaving Kuja behind. He figured it was alright. His good day just became a bad one.

Kuja went to Walter’s home and sat on the bed, got up, grabbed the mirror, stared in it, swallowed thickly. How had he not seen it before? 11 years among the genomes, 4 years of watching Zidane grow. _How could he have not noticed before!?_

His silver hair to their blonde. His tall stature to their short. His lack of a tail to their own tails. There had been so many of them there. He had assumed… He had assumed, this entire time, that the reason he was _different_ was because he was _special_ , because he was _chosen._ Now, only now — _how only now!? —_ was he seeing that he had been marked out for discard from birth.

Kuja’s heart fluttered, buzzed, wouldn’t stop even though it was supposed to stop, it was supposed to have stopped, it should have stopped, stopped, _stop beating so fast._

“ _Stop,_ stop, that’s enough… That’s enough, that’s enough, that’s enough…” He curled up on the bed, tucked his head between his legs, pressed on it like he could crush it. The plates of his boots dug into his skull. “That’s enough, that’s enough, that’s enough…” His hands clutched at his hair, dug past the plates to reach. His ribcage was crushed and it didn’t help his breathing as they came in short, shallow breaths. He couldn’t stop one breath long enough to take the next one even a second longer.

“Kuja?” Walter asked, standing in the doorway. Kuja glared at him. Walter nodded and departed, though he was back soon after with a cup of tea for him. “Drink. It’ll help.”

Kuja took the cup, hands shaking. He tried to drink and managed to get it to his lips, then sipped on it and screeched. The flavor! It was like a mangled corpse that had been run over and shat on by a chocobo!

“What is this!?” His lip curled in disgust.

“That’s my specialty, and the flavor that got me the name Teamaker! You see, we’re all going to go through life and experience things that will hurt us. The first step to handling it is a cup of tea.”

“I see.” He glared at the offending cup. “And what is this _flavor_ for?”

“Shocking the body out of its deathward spiral!” Walter declared proudly. Kuja could still feel the jitters and shakes, but he was able to breathe deeply again, properly, calmly, without overwhelming emotion, just like he was supposed to.

“It did its job.” He handed the cup back. Walter smiled and set that cup aside, then got him a proper cup of tea.

“So, what brought it on?”

“What do you mean?” Kuja asked.

“I mean, what brought on your shakes? It had to be something pretty significant to you.”

“I…” Trying to think about it made it come back. Not made right, not made to last. Not made right, not made to last. Uniquity is a bad thing.

“Is it… is it wrong to…” How could he phrase it? Uniquity made you stand out, apart from the crowd. He wasn’t like the other genomes. He wasn’t like these dwarves. He wasn’t… He wasn’t even like his brother. He was selfish, conceited, a horrible person to have to deal with.

Walter waited patiently.

“I am… not like anyone else in the world…” Kuja took a deep breath and curled up on himself more. Walter just covered him with the blanket, giving him a hiding place away from the world that scared him. Scared… He was scared. The realization made him curl in tighter.

“No one is exactly like anyone else. True, you’ve more unique qualities than I’m used to seeing, but then again, I was also only used to seeing dwarves until the pointy hats moved in close by!” He laughed and rubbed Kuja’s back.

Right… the black mages. The ones that Kuja had made to be weapons, who had gained consciousness faster than anticipated and had escaped. He wondered how they were.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’ll find a place where you belong. I doubt you were just born yesterday! Do you remember where you came from?”

“I do.” Kuja nodded and took a deep breath. He could hide away in the Desert Palace, or rejoin the ranks of the nobles in Treno. Lindblum could prove dangerous, given his current status with them. There was no doubt in his mind that wandering into that place would have him killed. Alexandria… Best not.

“Then you can go back!”

“Yes, I can.” To the Desert Palace, then, as soon as he figured a way over the mountains. Once he had finished his tea, Walter took it away. By the time Walter came back, Kuja was gone and moving onward.


	2. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja meets someone unexpected who tears him open and updates him on some stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> djkfsdhfjsk i forgot to put down that this has multiple chapters for it

By the time he realized where he was going, it was too late for him to turn back. The road led him onward, ever onward, southeast of Conde Petie. He knew the location and still he didn’t stop, even as he rounded the cliffs and wandered the paths carved from the mountains. There, deep in the forest below, was a village — and he knew the residents. Kuja paused and stayed where he was.

The village was bustling with black mages who ought to have been dead by now, as well as the genomes that caused him such anguish. He took in a deep breath, figuring he may as well go in. What was the worst that could happen? They kill him a second time?

Kuja made it to the edge of the village and paused again. If he was seen, he would be known. If they knew him, he was screwed. Did they bear resentment for him because he lied? Did they want to hurt him? Did they —

Chocobo?

“A chocobo?” Kuja wondered, watching a chocobo run by him. Its presence stunned him. He didn’t remember any of them having a chocobo.

“Bobby Corwen! Come back!” Three black mages were running after it. Kuja snickered, knowing that no two-legged being on Gaia could catch a chocobo. Still, they looked distraught. He decided to do what he knew the bird would fall for and kwehed at it.

Bobby Corwen stopped and turned around. Kuja ducked behind a bush so only his feathers were out and kwehed again. The chocobo came up to the bush, curious as to this strange silver one. He kwehed one more time. Bobby Corwen pecked at the bush. The black mages got ahold of his reins and calmed him down, then got him inside the village to eat. One of them stayed behind, also wanting to investigate the strange silver chocobo.

“Hello, Chocobo. Are you hungry?”

Kuja froze. Why did this turn out this way!? He kwehed quietly and tried not to be spotted. The mage went around the bush. Kuja did the same. They danced in circles for awhile until someone else came by.

“Huh? Kuja?” a voice asked. Kuja froze, in plain sight of the village and the person who had spoken to him. There was… a distinct lack of malice in her voice. He stood and turned to face her. A crowd had gathered, evidently entertained watching him scoot around a bush like an imbecile.

“Whom?” he asked. As long as he could shake the name…

“Kuja. That’s you,” the girl said again. She was a genome, hair tied into tails at the front of her head with pink ribbon.

“I’m afraid you have me mixed up with someone else.”

“No, I don’t. You’re Kuja, my big brother. Zidane told me about you,” she said. Kuja balked. Her _what!?_

“I have no family,” he said. It was an honest answer. The only family he could claim was Zidane, and he wasn’t putting that stain on him. Not now. He had no family because he wouldn’t be wanted in one.

“Yes, you do. You have Zidane. You have me.” The girl approached him, her words bouncing off him. The words were. Not the name “I’ve wanted to meet you ever since Zidane told me about you. Zidane said—“

“Don’t mention that name to me,” Kuja said, narrowing his eyes. His body shook. His fists curled as he tried to steady himself.

“ _I’m useless to this world.”_

“ _No one is useless.”_

“Zidane said that you sent him and his friends away from the Iifa Tree at the end. He said you were lost and scared and acting out because you didn’t know what else to do.”

“That’s enough!” _That’s enough, that’s enough, that’s enough. I already have enough regret._

“No it’s not! You don’t know what you did for us!”

“You mean what I did _to_ you!?”

“You saved us!”

“I hurt you!”

“Yes, you did. Big brother, you saved us from our fate to be the bodies of other people just as much as you saved yourself, and no one got to tell you, because for a long time, you were dead. And now you’re here and I don’t know why…”

Kuja bit his lip. He saved them? He… No, that was wrong.

“Zidane saved you,” he said quietly. “I was going to destroy you, along with the rest of Garland’s work.”

“We would still be living empty lives, waiting for the day when we would be displaced. You said no. You said you weren’t going to let that happen. You stared down your fate and did everything you could to prevent it. You tasted freedom, and because of that, we knew we could, too. Kuja. Big Brother. We owe you for that.”

“You owe me nothing. I’ve done nothing to deserve a favor.”

“Kuja. My name is Mikoto. That name was given to me by Garland, but it isn’t all the name I have now. My full name is Mikoto Tribal. I have that last name because it’s Zidane’s. He said I could use it if I wanted to, and I did, so I do. That was my choice. I would never have had the chance if you hadn’t broken the cage we were trapped in. I am two years old and almost three because you had enough and decided that you wouldn’t be a doll for someone else to play in.”

Kuja felt something hot run down his cheeks and swiped at one to investigate. Anything to take his mind off of her. It was a tear. He was crying. The realization of that made him cry harder, made his knees weak, made them give out under him before this strange girl who claimed him as her brother.

Mikoto approached him and knelt down, then hugged him. “You’re Kuja. You can be a Tribal, too, if you want.”

“I am…” He laughed sordidly. “I am Kuja. I’m the Angel of Death and World Destroyer who tried to end all life in the world by going after the Crystal.”

“You’re my big brother who showed us the path to live.”

“I was born a monster, trained to be a monster. I had no value for life.”

“You refused to be one at key moments. You value life now.” Mikoto sniffled into his hair as she held him close to her.

“Mine shouldn’t be valued.”

“Well it is, so you’re gonna have to deal with that! I appreciate what you did, unintentional or not.”

Kuja shook, then grasped her tightly and cried into her shoulder. The others of the village approached a little, but maintained their distance, until one little black mage in blue with a large, floppy hat on his head came closer.  
  
“Aunty Mikoto? Who is this?”

“This is my older brother, Kuja. I finally get to meet him.” Mikoto smiled through her tears. Kuja looked up and saw a smaller version of one of the prototypes he had made. It looked like the one Zidane toted around, but tiny. He wiped away his own tears and narrowed his eyes, confusion evident.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kuja. My name is Marvel,” the kid said. “Miss Mikoto helped me be born.”

“How…?”  
  
“You’re not the only one with the ability to make artificial beings. I found a way to extend the lifespan of the new black mages and set up a little production factory. Now they can have children and I can make them,” Mikoto said, drying her face.

“And this one is named Marvel?”

“That’s right. Say hello.”

“Hello, Marvel,” Kuja said, not wanting to move. As long as Mikoto held him, he was safe from the wrath of the mages he had wronged and wrongfully made.

“Are you afraid of something? I have to hug my dads when there’s thunder. It’s real scary.”

“Ah, no, not so much that as…” Could he say? He couldn’t say a word in front of this little kid. It would be too much for him. The mages of the village stirred. Was it his imagination that they wanted him gone?

Marvel approached and hugged Kuja, too. “It’s okay to be afraid. We can only be scared of things when we’re alive, right?”

“Yeah…” Did he want to be? At least he was able to make one person happy.

“And being alive is awesome! We have to cherish the moments we have.”

“Right.” He went from being lectured by one person to being lectured by another, apparently. It was getting old. He just wanted to wallow in pain for awhile.

“Why don’t we go to my house?” Mikoto said, getting up. Kuja shook his head and pulled her back down, then, realizing how childish that looked, detached and stood by himself. He dusted off his boots and smiled at her. It was forced. It felt forced and looked forced and there was no way it was believable, but still he lied. Mikoto stared at him until it faltered and fell away.

“Kuja, come to my house. You need to rest.”

“I’ve heard that. I’ll be fine,” he said. Mikoto shook her head and took his hand, dragging him into the village. The faces of those he passed ranged from the neutral expressions of the genomes to the anger and distrust of the black mages. The further into the village the two went, the more he felt like he should leave.

  
“Mikoto, I shouldn’t be here.” He looked around at the others and tried to break free of her grasp.

“Zidane told me you came to understand the value of life and that you felt useless to the world. You can change for the better,” she said firmly. They reached her house and entered. It was shaped in the same way as the other houses, but the inside was decorated with machine pieces, both working and not. He blinked and looked around.

“What is all of this?”

“Magitech. I can do biomagitech, too, but I prefer machinery,” Mikoto said. She sat Kuja down and closed the door, then went to get some water from a barrel. He blinked at the method.

“How did you come back?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Kuja said easily. Mikoto handed over a cup and stared at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re lying.”

  
“Am I now?”

“You are. You know how this happened.” She kept staring at him until he relented.

“I was able to restart my body, more or less.”

Still, she stared, until Kuja finally couldn’t manage another lie in the face of those eyes.

“Fine. I was able to secure a second lab in my palace some time ago and remade myself there. I hit factory reset on my body and now I’m back and better than ever.” He preened, even if there wasn’t a lot of gusto in it.

“With a tail.”

“With a tail.”  
  


“It’s a pretty tail.” Mikoto’s own tail tapped the chair as she sat across from him. “How did you reach it?”

“I… I asked Zidane to let my body rest in the roots of the Tree, since it fit as my final resting place. Then I snapped awake, as if my body refused the death it was given, and called a dragon to my side. It brought me to the palace. I was able to do what I needed to before collapsing. I assume the machine took care of the rest. Has it… Has it really been a year?”

“It has. Over a year, actually. Would you like updates on the state of the world?” Mikoto asked. Her tone was so… _Genome._ Kuja almost snickered at the roboticness of it.

“Yes, please. I was in Conde Petie for a short while and got the gist that the world is now recovering from a second calamity thanks to the roots collapsing and the Tree decaying away.”

“It is. We found a way to release the final souls of Terra into Gaia’s reincarnation cycle, which means they’ll all be able to live again, even if not in Genomes. Vivi is dead. I don’t know if you remember him at all, but he was a very short black mage.”

“Ah, I remember. The powerful one who proved to be an excellent weapon, despite also being a runaway.” He mused on it for a bit. Vivi… It sounded like an ancient word for _life._ How ironic.

“He was also the one who recommended the Genomes come to Black Mage Village to live, since we’re all creations. Steiner and Beatrix are engaged right now. Beatrix you know. Steiner was the knight. Apparently he wanted to be one ever since a Knight of Pluto saved him as a boy during a war.”

“I see. His sword did quite a bit of damage.”

“Quina Quen is in her marsh again and cooking for everyone. She visits Alexandria pretty often, from what I’m told. She’s almost always there when I go to visit. But there are times she’ll go to other places and learn their ways of cooking.”

“… Which was that?”

“The Qu. Large with an apron?”

He had a sudden flash of hiring someone like that once to make him food when he lived in Treno and oh, right, she had shot some spells that he could tell were learned on the way. _Blue mage._

“Right, her. Annoying, but more a pushover than anything.” He shrugged. Truth be told, he wasn’t too frightened of such a person, even now.

“Amarant—“

“Him? Really? Yes, I do remember his face. I’m surprised he wasn’t arrested.” Kuja hummed. Originally, he was going to just let him go, but thought it might be fun to watch him squirm and had thus pinned the theft in his mansion on the man.

He… should probably avoid him.

“He got a full pardon from Queen Garnet and is now traveling the world with a woman named Lani. They became close when they were hunting bounties together. That is still a part of their agenda, and they come to visit on occasion.”

“Interesting.” It kind of was, he supposed. Why Mikoto was focusing so much on Zidane’s friends was beyond him.

“Freya is helping to rebuild Burmecia. Apparently she can weave well and is making clothing for nobility to wear to help fund the process. Alexandria and Lindblum are offering what help they can.”

“The dragoon. I remember her distinctly.” Nothing quite like someone coming down from on high to stab your skull clean through.

“She’s also married to Sir Fratley, the man she was seeking when she met Zidane the first time around.”

“Right.” Who?

“Eiko likes to put chocobo dung on your grave.”

He remembered _her_ for sure. “That makes sense. I did try to have her eidolons extracted from her.”

Mikoto giggled. “She likes to gloat about surviving that because of her youth. We like to play pranks on everyone together, though we never do so to Queen Garnet. She also currently resides in Lindblum most of the time.”

“And how is the Queen?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t still pissed off about his earlier attempt to kill her. That would… suck. Something niggled at his mind when she mentioned being friends with someone gremlin enough to pull pranks. He certainly remembered the mouth on that little squit.

“She’s doing well. Her ascension was smooth after the Iifa Tree fell, and she’s even gotten everyone onboard with rebuilding all three kingdoms as a cohesive unit. We’re all Gaians, so we shall prevail together. Everyone is united more than ever before. We even get visitors out this way.”

“How lovely. She’s undone everything Brahne and I accomplished.” A soft smile crossed his face, a small bit of pride that she was a strong enough leader for such a thing, and a good enough person to be willing to do the work of undoing what he had wrought. Chaos was a wonderful thing to witness, but it did ill for a society. That was not what was needed in a modern age that had outgrown war.

“Oh, and she’s got people who can be spared working to come up with more steam machines. That’s part of my hobby here,” Mikoto said, getting excited.

“Is that so?” There was one person left. “That’s quite the feat. How does it work exactly?”

Mikoto was off-track and babbling about machinery, parts, the hydraulics that were necessary for it all, the search for a good source to maintain the steam with. “I ran an analysis on the steam with what’s left of Terra’s technology and found that the coal they’re burning now will result in the planet’s destruction within a few centuries. Regent Cid is now looking for a more sustainable source.”

“He can try the sun. That’s how the Terrans flew their planet. They harnessed energy from the suns they visited as they absorbed the crystals of other planets,” Kuja said. Mikoto blinked.

“How do we make them!?”

“Let me see what I remember. Ah, I may have a copy of that knowledge. I wanted Terra’s knowledge for myself, so I downloaded as much as I could onto a pad, then delivered it to the Desert Palace when I was exiled. I was able to convince Garland to hand me the rest of it,” Kuja said.

“Let’s go and get it!” Mikoto grinned and ran outside, dragging Kuja along again.

“You’re excited,” he noted. She nodded.

“We’ve been trying for awhile to harness other energies. Oh! Maybe we can use aero power, too!”

“That would be an extravagant leap to witness,” Kuja said, trying to keep up. She was at least a head shorter than him, so what gave!?

“Right? Maybe we can find out what the _Invincible_ ran on, too!”

“That was magical energy borne of the Crystal. It would threaten to kill this planet faster to use that method.”

“Oh. You don’t want that to happen.”

“Admittedly, no. I don’t want it to happen at all. I… I don’t want this planet to die.” His voice had gone quiet, part of him feeling a desperate ache in his chest, not unlike that which had spurred him to reclaim life. It was an odd feeling. He found himself not wanting anyone to die anymore. He didn’t want Gaia to die. As they bolted across the village, now nearly a city with the influx of residents, many of them said hello to him. He tried to at least wave back.

Mikoto reached a dinghy by the pond. It wasn’t docked in the water at all, which Kuja felt was rather strange for a boat.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a hand-powered airship. By turning the crank here, you can go anywhere without burning coal. It was an experimental prototype built,” Mikoto said. Kuja felt his heart fuzz at the mention of _prototype._ How strange. He had killed Garland, so why did the word recall that tragic feeling of the day he was made aware of his place as the experimental?

Mikoto cocked her head. “Big brother?”

“Hm? What is it?” he asked, feigning that he was okay.

“You don’t look well. Did I say something to upset you?”

“No, you didn’t.” Kuja didn’t want her to worry. It was too much for _him_ to figure out. She just stared at him as the ship got moving and kept turning the crank tirelessly until he relented — again.

“For some reason, the word _prototype_ set me off.”

“Garland considered you one. It must have been difficult to handle such a thing at the time, considering how you reacted then. It won’t magically go away now. Relatively speaking, you haven’t had much time to recover from what happened to you before. By the way, Zidane—“

Another fuzzing of his body at the mention of that name. Kuja hid it this time. Mikoto still caught it, but she was far superior to both of her brothers at hiding emotions and elected to ignore it.

“— said that you said you wanted to be left in the Iifa Tree’s roots as your final resting place. The grave in Alexandria is in a private spot so no one can mess with it.”

“And yet, Eiko leaves chocobo droppings on it. Do you know specific dates?” He could also read the site to see what was left and when for payback later.

“I do not,” Mikoto said. “Why did you want to be left there?”

“I had already caused so much pain and anguish for everyone. I refused to do so when I was about to expire. I was a tragic and sympathetic villain, and seeing me die off-stage would befit my actions. Besides, what use is a funeral if you’re not present for it?”

“Funny. We found your final will and testament in your old mansion after that. It said you wanted an extravagant funeral.”

“A joke. I assumed I would live forever at the time.” Kuja stared into the sky and sighed before closing his eyes to focus on the breeze. Mikoto made a small _oh_ and nodded in understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stick around and enjoy~ updating weekly ^-^


	3. Overwhelmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja and Mikoto go on a trip to the Desert Palace to grab some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not realize this chapter was so short until just now

It took a few hours to get to the Desert Palace, but when they did, Kuja directed Mikoto to one of its hidden outward spires. The sunlight that shone on his art pieces was dissembled by magic, to ensure no one would simply wander into the strange ruins. There was no need for anyone to know about Terran architecture, not before, and certainly not now.

They got the boat tied up at the ship dock he had built for the _Hildagarde_. Kuja opened it carefully and wandered inside, then looked around at the place. It was like it had been frozen in time. Perfect for him, he rather felt the same now that he had known and un-known mortality. Confident that nothing was out of place, he wandered along the halls and across the traps that had been dismantled that time. There were signs of skirmishes here and there where things had leapt out to attack. It seemed his precious guard dogs had all dispersed once the food stopped coming. Shame.

“This place feels more dead than Terra had,” Mikoto said, blinking and looking around. Kuja nodded.

“I preferred things that were as beautiful and immortal as myself.” They passed a trio of statues. The statues had been twisted out of place, but that was fine. He wandered up the path of light and down some halls, then into a room at the center of the castle. Within it was a lot of machinery, the ultimate place that held the entire defense system. If he was going to be here for any length of time, it wasn’t going to be without some security that his security wouldn’t roast him.

Or Mikoto. She was nice enough and comforting. She could stay alive.

He turned a wheel at the center. A year without being touched made it difficult to turn, but he managed. Once the security systems had been dismantled, Kuja looked around for Mikoto so he could direct her to his library. Unfortunately, she was already getting into the machinery surrounding her, running about and climbing the walls, hanging off pipes to see what she could see. He blinked as she went, remembering when Zidane was small enough to get into as much trouble.

It was kind of endearing.

“Mikoto, be careful up there!” he called, not wanting her to get hurt. Odd.

“I will be! This place is so interesting!”

“That it is. Would you like to explore more here? I can fetch the plans for the solar panels for you.”

“I’m coming down!” Mikoto leapt lithely, a testament to her time learning from Zidane. He could see it in her movements, as he had in Zidane’s. She landed beside him and looked up expectantly. Kuja led the way to the library, where thousands of books lay in stasis, each and every one carefully enchanted never to crack or fade from age.

Sitting alone on a desk was a piece of magitech, a simple pad with handles that projected using light magic. He also had paper copies of the knowledge inside, fearing data degradation if the magic ran out on it, but this had held up thus far.  
  
“This is the pad I took with me.” He touched it to turn it on and flicked through the folders to find what he wanted. “These are the solar plans. I thought it would be useful to have my own construction manuals. It also contains the plans for Genome bodies.”

“This is wonderful! Does this mean that Oeilvert’s anti-magic barrier is still up?”

“I couldn’t say. It was up when I wanted to gather more knowledge and plans in the hopes of finding out about Eidolons.”

“I’ll arrange a team to look inside. I’ve been wanting to go ever since Zidane mentioned how it was.”

“Is that right? I do want to go, but I have no weapon skills outside of my magic.” Kuja sighed. Wasn’t that wonderful? He had been trained to be the unstoppable weapon and got stopped because the Terrans decided that there was to be no fire in the library.

It was a reasonable request on their part, he just got upsetti over it because of how nice it would be to visit that place _safely._

“Maybe we can get a couple of the others to take you.”

“I doubt it. Anyway, this is all we came for. Let’s go.” He didn’t relish sticking around for much longer than this.

“Do you want to pick up any personal belongings?” Mikoto asked.

“And put them where, exactly?”

“Good point. Maybe we can build a second house next to mine.”

“I think I’ll wander the world and see how it’s changed since I was last here.” And also possibly move to Daguerreo.

“Wander it, huh? As long as you’re sure, Kuja,” Mikoto said. “Then, I think you should go to Alexandria Castle first. That way you can see Zidane again.”

  
“I would prefer not to.” Stars only knew how much his replacement would detest seeing someone who had brought nothing but pain and death and suffering to the world.

“Why not?” Mikoto asked.

“If I’m forced to see his stupid face, I would have to drown myself in the lake,” Kuja said, raising his arms dramatically. Mikoto just stared at him.

“You shouldn’t cover your feelings so. It’s bad for your health,” she said, crossing her arms.

“And what feelings might I be covering?” he asked, meandering to the airship dock.

“Regret and shame.”

Kuja paused and turned to look back at her sharply. “And what would you know of me?”

“I know you were hurting at the end. Zidane told me,” Mikoto said. Kuja cursed the mouthy brat.

“So I was.” He gave her a hard look and turned away to continue away. Mikoto ran up to him and stopped him.

“Kuja.”

“Mikoto, you ought to know better than to get in someone’s way.”

“Am I in the way?”

“Yes—“

“You were always willing to talk about yourself before, right? Now that it’s scary, you’re turning tail and fleeing?”

“I am.” He pushed her out of the way, only for Mikoto to jump on him and bring him to the ground.

“Why don’t you want to see Zidane!?” she demanded, twisting his arm behind his back.

“You summed it up nicely,” Kuja said, getting angry.

“Tell me yourself!”

“Regret! Shame! What more is there to say!?” He struggled in her grasp and couldn’t move an inch.  
  
“A lot more! Those are just words for feelings but they’re not the reason! Why do you feel regret? Why do you feel shame? And why is it connected to Zidane!?”

“B… Because…” He didn’t want to face it. He had spent too long building himself up in the minds of others just to cover the cracks in the foundation of his personhood. To tear that down now would be to leave himself vulnerable, and in front of a _stranger_ no less.

“Why, Kuja? You’re my older brother and amazing, so why?”

“I’m not! I’m not amazing!” Hot tears welled in his eyes. His heart clenched to say it. “I’m not in the slightest.”

Mikoto got off of him and sat to the side, waiting for him to continue, and continue he did.

“I spent the first half of my life obediently following Garland’s orders, the second half plotting his demise, and now… Now all of that is evident everywhere around me. All of the people you mentioned, the people I saw today alone… They were all affected by me, and not in good ways. The black mages should never have existed, the genomes should have been able to stay in Terra.”

“Kuja…”

He shot up and glared at her, angry at her and himself. “ _I_ was the one who brought war to Steiner’s village and inspired him to be a knight! _I_ was the one who brought down Burmecia, I got Amarant framed for a crime he didn’t commit, I _made_ Vivi! I destroyed Madain Sari, I influenced and killed Queen Brahne. For all I know, I burned down a marsh and destroyed Quina’s home village or else hired her and lied about her cooking, I don’t know! It’s my fault! Their lives were irrevocably cursed by my actions! I can’t — I can’t return.”

He curled up into a ball on the floor, facing away from Mikoto, and tried to at least cry silently. It didn’t work. A scream rose from his throat as memories of fire, of burning, of crying faces and ashen corpses crashed into his head over and over and over.

Mikoto was at a loss. She had wanted to help him, like Zidane had, but this was way beyond her. What a mistake she had made. She bit her lip and tried to think of something, _anything_ , to calm him down. In the end, she just curled against his back and tried to hug him that way. Kuja’s panicked screams echoed in the halls, raw with fear, as he tried to wiggle away from her across the floor.

“Kuja, shh. You can trust him. He’ll figure it out. I promise. He’ll help you, like he always does.”

“I–inf,” he swallowed. “yu-u-u-ur…”

Kuja cried more, unable to even get a word across. He could use a spell, he knew one, but he couldn’t get around the things he had once seen and _reveled_ in. How had he reveled in such things!?

“Infuriatingly?” Mikoto hazarded. This close up, she could feel the pain inside him. It was like a searing inferno, a blazing furnace of nothing but emotion, bottomless and open and pouring out and it made her cry hot tears with him as she tried to separate herself from it without separating from him, getting the dusty back of his jacket wet.

He nodded. She laughed from the success, and he tried to laugh with her. Mikoto’s form against his back was an unusual but pleasant feeling. It made him feel… safe. Safe enough.

“He knows you better than you think, Big Brother.”

“Call me something else.”

“Aniki?”

“Frére,” Kuja said. “It’s Terran for brother.”

“Frére. I like it.” Mikoto smiled and whispered it a few times as Kuja tried to force himself to calm down. Eventually, he got up and started moving forward again. He tried to pretend like that hadn’t just happened, even as his breathing continued being unsteady and tears still fell from his eyes. Mikoto walked with him.

“I want to get some trinkets from my room,” he said thickly, changing course suddenly. It had occurred to him that, in light of his no longer being an aristocrat, per se, he would need a way to survive, and that meant money. He wasn’t King anymore, no longer the ruler of the auction house.

“Sure thing.” They went up to the sweeping apartments, past a parlor and a living room, a dining room with attached kitchen and toilet, a bathing room with a tub so large it was enough room to live in in and of itself, and finally to a second parlor outside of a bedroom.

The bed was also large enough to live on. Mikoto laughed.

“You have ostentatious tastes, Frére,” she said. Kuja nodded.

“As well I should. I’m worth it,” he answered, flicking his hair with a little smile of his own. Every step was heavy and grating, one foot dragged along after the other for awhile until he managed to get himself back into working order. He went to his old vanity, picked through the clothes and decided they were all too outdated to wear again, then selected pieces of jewelry, the most expensive, and put them on for safe keeping.

“All set,” he said, wandering out again, this time determined to make it to the airship.

“Are you sure?” Mikoto asked.

“I’m certain.”

The two of them made it back to the dock and departed. Just as they did, Kuja sent a magic missile to a button on the side. Every entrance exploded and buried themselves in sand.

“Now no one can enter,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awwww, closer


	4. Rumination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja has a lot to think about, mostly regarding his past. Thankfully, Mikoto is around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet angst. this is my first really angsty fic, and kuji-coo is so perfect for it

“It would be a great place for a treasure hunter,” Mikoto commented sometime later.

“That it would be. And it won’t be. The things in there are both far too ancient,” the statues were Terran originals, “and far too recent to be found any time soon. Maybe in a thousand years when no one can tell the difference and the cloth rots away.”

“Maybe.” They watched as the sand settled slowly, drifting across the desert into new places. “So why did you grab the jewelry?”

“I’ll need a source of money when it comes to buying supplies. These will fetch a good price as needed.”

“That’s a good idea.”

It was another few hours of chatter before they reached the village again. Kuja decided he rather liked Mikoto. She had a good sense of humor, if too many puns, and loved talking about her interests, which gave him a chance to think about Not Himself.

How strange for him to not want to think about himself. Kuja hummed as the thought crossed his mind.

They docked and departed. Kuja looked up at the sun. He had done a lot that day, hadn’t he? Taught some kids about genetics, made it all the way to the black mages, gone to the Desert Palace and back… No wonder the sun was setting.

“Let’s go to the Rest or Want,” Mikoto said, taking Kuja along with her to a new part of the village. He blinked.

“The… restaurant?”

“Restaurant and inn. The owner figures people will either rest or want food, so he made a pun of the name. Rest or Want. It sounds like restaurant.”

Oh dear god.

Kuja was subjected to the fate of going to, of all things, _a pokey backwoods pun-in-the-name Mom and Pop shop._ Woe was him, how the mighty fall!

And yet, it was Treno quality goodness. He stared in shock at the splendorous outside, the warm and cozy yet chic and high-end inside. Mikoto giggled watching him as he stepped inside.

“Welcome to the Rest or Want,” said a genome. “My name is Lucius. Are you here for a room or a table?”

“A table, please,” Mikoto said. Lucius nodded and waved for another genome to come over. They were sat at a table and handed menus. Glasses of water were also handed to them. Kuja approved of the use of it. Glass was not used enough by people, he felt, though it was also somewhat expensive for these people to produce, as they didn’t have the refineries of the Terrans.

“All the chefs are black mages who’ve been cooking around here for ages.”

“Interesting.” Kuja picked out a dish of Zaghnol steak with local greens, wondering what local meant. Mikoto preferred cactuar soup and licked her lips excitedly for it.

“You like this food?” Kuja asked, taking up the glass of water.

“Cactuar soup is a favorite of mine. It’s tart and tangy and a little sweet, all at once. And there are other veggies added with it. It’s said that getting a cactuar needle in your soup is a sign of good fortune. I ate some last night and it had a needle in it, and now you’re here.”

He choked. “Is that right? I’m _good_ fortune?”

“Yes!” She beamed at him. A couple others recognized him and came over to say a quick thanks about setting them free from their chains. The black mages were happy to have a life to live, which was only possible because of Kuja. The genomes attempted smiles and nearly got there.

“How did they get names?”

“They picked them out, themselves. A lot of the genomes were aware of those they were built for, or else just aware of the names of the ancient populace and chose from that selection. Lucius stole the name of his awaiting soul and is quite proud to have it for himself, instead of it being assigned with the other person. The black mages chose to take the names of things they like. Marvel loves the idea of wondering at things. Pie likes pies.”

“Pie.”

“And Cheesecake. They’re Bobby Corwen’s parents.”

“Right. Why not name themselves Chocobo?”

“Because Bobby Corwen is the chocobo. It would be stepping on his boundaries to name themselves chocobos.”

“I see.” He did not. What the fuck?

Their food arrived promptly and well-cooked. Kuja cut into his Zhagnol steak and tried it. The meat itself was high-grade, a perfect marbling of fat and meat to create a tender, juicy, and flavorful steak, and the _spices!_ Oh, the spices were magnificent!  
  
“This can’t all be local ingredients.”

“They are. The soil was brought in from outside, but the spices grown are out in the backyard,” Mikoto said. Kuja’s eyes blew wide at that one. This was suddenly a favorite place of his. Despite his own penchant for importing things because it added expense and allure for the exotic, being able to get an entire meal made locally that tasted as good had its charm and enjoyment.

“Do you like the steak?”

“I do,” Kuja said, smiling. It felt like he hadn’t cried twice that day, eating this steak. Maybe that made it better. Maybe he was just hungry.

“How much is a room here?”

“You can stay with me. It’ll be cheaper and I have an extra room. The bed is comfy.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” It meant more than he figured a room would, his heart fuzzy and warm from the offer. Once they had finished their meal, they wandered back to her house. The sun had long set and the moon was high in the sky. Mikoto kept looking at him as he strode along and tried to avoid puddles and mud without looking like it. Kuja looked down to her. Her gaze shifted away, then back when he stopped looking her way.

“Is there something you need?”  
  
“Can you teach me to wield magic?” she asked.

“I can try. Magic isn’t the easiest thing in the world, you know.”

“I know. I mostly just want to learn Cure. That way I can heal myself if I get burns from the machinery,” she said, showing her hands. There were some minor scars. Kuja took one in his hand and hummed, assessing the damage.

He wasn’t a white mage. He knew cure, and cura, and curaga, esuna, etc. But he was no white mage, not by a long shot.

“It would certainly help. Let’s see if Garland gave you a capacity for magic. Stars only know Zidane never had one.” Kuja chuckled. Mikoto blinked and smiled.

“Frére, that’s the first time I’ve heard you say his name!”

“Is it? How odd.” Kuja shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on what it meant for him to be saying that accursed name. Maybe it was because he was insulting Zidane?

Kuja took Mikoto’s dagger — one of Zidane’s old ones — and drew it carefully across his hand, not too deep in fear of cutting his precious and irreparable tendons, then focused his attention on it, his old lessons returning to him.

“ _Feel the energy within you. It is the energy of the planet and will assist in your spells. That energy is_ yours _to use, Kuja.”_

_His to use._

The cut healed as he used the energy within himself to repair it. “First, you need to feel the energy within yourself. Close your eyes and concentrate on it. This energy is the planet’s gift to you. It is yours to borrow.”

Hers to borrow. His to borrow. Eventually, all things return to the Crystal. All things return to the cycle.

“To borrow?”

“All energy, all things, return to the Life Crystal. That includes the magical energy we expend for our spells. Can you feel it pulsing inside of you?”

She had some magic. Not as much as him, more than Zidane. Garland’s perfectly central doll had magic to wipe out cities and not enough to wipe out _him._ It made Kuja wonder just how aware Garland had been, how assured he had been that Kuja wouldn’t succeed in betraying him.

“I can. I can feel the energy.” Mikoto opened her eyes and looked at him, still so green in the dark. He saw a spark in her and nodded approvingly.

“Good, excellent.” He sliced his hand open a second time. “Try Cure. Focus your energy into your hands and out, then focus on the cut healing. Picture it and want it. Magic responds to intent.”

“Right.” She put her hands over his and focused. The cut healed nicely.

“You did it, Mikoto,” Kuja said proudly. At least one of these people could do something.

“How do the black mages do it?”

“Their energy is, or was, purely Mist. That energy provided more than enough to manipulate, and my commands in their programs showed the way. How did you manage to keep them from dying, by the way?”

“I formed tiny life cycles inside of them. I thought, if the Iifa Tree can do it, I can find a way to, as well. I had learned how the Iifa Tree did its cycling and decided to try it here, to put energy from the environment into their bodies. They have to eat to live.”

“You made them more alive,” Kuja said, impressed. “I assume biotech.”

“Naturally~” Mikoto rocked on her feet and smiled.

“Are you also good with a knife?”  
  


“I can handle myself in a fight with one, but I’m better with my fists. Amarant taught me.”

Kuja would have to thank him, maybe.

“That’s good. This place can be dangerous.”

“Oh, it is. We learned how to cook and eat the monsters around us because they like to try to eat us.”

“How unfortunate. Whether for the monsters or villagers, I cannot say. I fear the former,” Kuja said, chuckling. He felt tired. It had been an exhausting day. Mikoto helped him to her house and got him into bed. As soon as he sat on the mattress, he tried to get his clothes off to sleep properly and only succeeded after being helped.

Mikoto tucked him in. “Sweet dreams, Frére,” she said, giving him a lil forehead smooch. It was a surprising gesture and made Kuja blink.

“Good night, Mikoto,” he answered, unsure of what else to say.

In the night, under the stars, under the moon, under the burning lights of Pandemonium where it had always been so, so red and blinding, Kuja wandered ancient halls. He recognized them all, having known them intimately as a child.

As a child. As if he had ever been such a thing. Still, born adult or not, he had always been a child, hadn’t he? Garland looked upon him as he muttered that.

“You’re the Angel of Death,” he said simply.

Kuja awoke and gasped for breath, chest heaving like he had been running for ages. His skin was covered in sweat, the blanket disgustingly clammy on him. He got out of bed, tied his skirt round his waist, then wandered out into the night to look up at the moons. Their glistening light did little to calm him. He floated up to the roof and sat carefully on the thatching, not wanting to disturb Mikoto.

Blue. Red. Blue, the color his brother remembered. Red, the inside of Pandemonium. Gaia. Terra. Two brothers, one belonging to each world and neither to each other. There was emptiness inside him that rose up as easily as the shadows had.

He couldn’t consider Zidane his brother, but there was no other word he knew. Nuisance, savior, genome? Only that accursed word that linked them felt any sort of _right._ Kuja sighed and watched his breath steam in the cold air. He was tired. It would have been better for him to die. Then his memory would live on and people could rest assured that he would never cause trouble for them again. Instead, he was now rising like a shadow, the monster in the dark waiting for your guard to fall, the one you glance over your shoulder at to assure yourself it isn’t really there.

Zidane was the one you ran to because he made you feel safe from that monster.

Two moons. Two worlds. Two brothers. Two fates intertwined. Kuja was Terra, and like Terra, he should have fallen.

“Frére?” Mikoto asked, coming up beside him and looking at the moon. “Gil for your thoughts?”

“I should have died with Terra,” he said.

“Yeah. You should have. The world could move forward pretty easily without you around.”

Kuja took a deep breath, considering how to state his next thought, the one before his death thought. “Zidane is Gaia. And I am Terra. I am the eyes in the woods, the wolf with teeth, the lurking danger, as Terra was to Gaia, unbeknownst to all. He was the one who saved everyone and makes them feel safe.”

Mikoto nodded agreement. “You are. You were the greatest threat to Gaia, in the end. More than Terra. More than Garland, even. You went for the Crystal itself and threatened to destroy all life across all of time and space.”

Kuja buried his face in his hands. He was out of energy to cry and just sat there.

“ _Were._ _Went._ Threaten _ed_.” She hummed. “Yesterday’s mistakes are today’s reflection and won’t be tomorrow’s actions.”

“What?”

“There’s always a chance for a better tomorrow. What you did before was your old self. You’re changing, Kuja. You have regret and shame. These things hurt us and remind us of how we did wrong so we can avoid that in the future. Zidane said that they go away when you fix what you did.”

“Fix it, huh?” Kuja chuckled, then plopped a hand on Mikoto’s head. “You’re a wise girl, you know that?”

“Am I? I just repeat what others say.”

“You are. We should sleep.”

“We should. Kuja?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing me to sleep? Aunty Hildy said you have a nice singing voice and I’m having trouble getting to sleep tonight.”

_Aunty Hildy._ He had to admit, Mikoto was adorable. Her childlike nature came through at the strangest and best times.

“Sure.” They climbed down together and went to Mikoto’s room. She climbed into bed, then tugged on his hand.

“Stay with me?” she asked.

“Alright.” Kuja slid into the bed next to her and sang softly. Mikoto’s eyes dulled and closed until she fell asleep. He soon followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's an old one from terra. don't ask me which, probably sounds like isabella's lullaby from promised neverland.


	5. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja adjusts a bit more to being alive and a part of a community of sorts, then... doesn't. Then he seeks help from someone who can't tell him what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter where i started realizing that i like kuja because i identify with him in certain ways
> 
> a lot of ways

In the morning, Kuja awoke with Mikoto holding onto him and snuggling on him. He extricated himself carefully from her grasp and went to get dressed. Walter Teamaker had been kind enough to lend him clothes before, though he had only worn them for the duration it took to clean his good ones. Now his good ones sat in a frumpled pile on the floor, his skirt a wrinkled mess around his waist. Kuja sighed. He should have taken the other clothes.

There was a knock at the door. Kuja checked on Mikoto, but she was still fast asleep and all curled up on herself, tail thumping softly on the bed as she dreamed in the morning hours. _So cute~_

“Hello?” he asked, opening the door up.

“Perfect.” A genome was staring at him with an empty smile on his face. “I saw how dirty your clothes were yesterday and thought you might like something to change into. No one exactly has your size, but we have belts for the pants.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Kuja blinked and took a stack of — oh god. Dark purple, a little red, lots of white. “Black mage clothing.”  
  
“Yes, we made replicas so they would have changes of clothes,” the genome said, smile dropped. Thank the stars.

“They’ll suit nicely. What was your name?”

“Estienne.”

“Thank you, Estienne. It was kind of you to bring these over.”

“Yes, it was.” He did a stiff bow and walked away. Kuja raised an eyebrow and tried to shrug it off. Mikoto was standing behind him.

“Estienne dropped off a new outfit for me while mine is being cleaned,” he said, showing the pile to her. She nodded.

“I thought so. He loves weaving and making clothes. I’ll ask him to make you a proper outfit soon.” She ran to the door and called out to him, then placed the order and agreed on a time for later that week.

“Get dressed. I need to go shopping and you’re coming with me.”

“If I must,” he said with a more dramatic sigh, then chuckled and turned to the room she had lent him. He realized he wouldn’t have his usual clothing dry and ready before they left, which meant he truly did have to settle for _this._

To say the clothing was confusing would be a lie. It was an absolute lack of complexity, one which had Kuja rankled. He got the pants on and immediately understood the belt issue as they encompassed his waist several fold. Thankfully, a belt had been provided. He slipped it into attached loops and got it to close well enough. The pants rose to just below his knees, detailing more how his body differed even from his own creations. They were stout in leg, large in body, ideal for weapons you wanted to move but also needed a lot of power from.

Next was the coat and… it fit? Sort of? The shoulders were a little too wide, so Kuja had kind of a new look going on. His shoulders were semi-bared but still covered. It would make a few of the more conservative men in Treno blush with the way it fell on him — though, if they looked down at the unsightly pants, they’d get over it.

“Type C jacket. Not bad. I wonder where he encountered one to replicate it.” The pants were Type A, plain and boring.

The Type Cs had been in Alexandria at the time of the attack. Had it been some sort of deal to get the pattern? Or was stealing just something that came with being made of Terra? Kuja shrugged. He didn’t care much, all told, though the idea of his creations simply wandering about and being passed along did fill him with a sense of dread. No. No, it was fine. Really, it was. He made good things, right? These jackets were to die for! Anyone would be lucky to have one.

And hey, the pants fit in his boots, so at least he could wear those. The purples almost matched each other, too.

Kuja cried a little at the reaches he was making to justify this travesty.

He joined Mikoto for shopping. “No breakfast first?”

“I ran out of time to get today’s food yesterday. I wasn’t exactly planning on going to the Desert Palace and all.” She giggled. She sounded a little like Zidane when she spoke.

“I see.” They wandered into the market street and found food of all kinds. There were also a number of foreign merchants.

“A lot of outsiders come here to find cheap labor and to sell wares here. The economy is good in our part of the world.”

“I see. That’s excellent news,” Kuja said. This meant that Mikoto probably knew more of economics than he did. The most he ever bothered with was ‘get money, spend money,’ and he was very good at both. Well, okay. There was the whole _rigging auctions_ thing that had gotten him his first fortune.

They traveled around and found plenty of different kinds of foods, mostly raw ingredients. Mikoto seemed to know what she wanted, so Kuja carried the basket for her and tried to ignore the stares now that he was in different clothes.

“These are ill-fitting,” he said quietly. Mikoto nodded.

“They are.”

He did his best to carry the basket, despite the sleeves that were engulfing his hands. Once they had everything, they went back home. Someone jokingly slapped a hat on his head.

“I have someone to set on fire,” he declared, once they were through the door. Mikoto laughed outright at that.

“Sure thing, Frère.” She put her groceries away, then started in on making a meal for them both. “The hat looks nice on you, though. It suits you.”

“Do you think so?” Kuja hadn’t previously considered wearing hats seriously. They did damage to the hair and he loved his glorious mane far too much to do it such an injustice. When he went to her bathroom to look in the mirror, he had to admit, it did look rather dashing on him. Perhaps a different color and style~

“Take a bath before breakfast!” Mikoto called.

“Okay!” Kuja closed the door and regarded the tub. Looks like they had installed Terran elements with the plumbing. Thank goodness. It had been a feat trying to get his Treno mansion outfitted for that. He turned on the water. It only ran cold.

Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no.

He put fire magic into the water to heat it up. There was absolutely _no way_ that he was going to be stepping into a cold pool of water — _ever_. No one could make him.

Once it was warm, he hopped in and relaxed into the tub for a bit before scrubbing himself down, finding himself hungry enough for breakfast. Kuja finished up soon enough and dressed again in the black mage clothes. The water was disgustingly dirty, so he drained it out, then went outside to see what was for breakfast.

“Nice and clean? I’ll take mine this evening,” Mikoto said, turning briefly before going back to her cooking.

“You’re dusty, too, Mikoto,” Kuja said, raising an eyebrow as she flipped an omelette out of the pan like a pancake and onto a plate she held behind her back for a trick shot.

“I wiped the worst of it off earlier. I’ll be fine another day.”

He just nodded and sat down to the meal. She had made two identical omelettes for them and munched on hers quietly. Cutting open the omelette revealed some veggies: tomatoes, mushrooms, sliced bits of carrot.

“How do your days usually go here?” Kuja asked.

“I wake up and make myself breakfast, usually something hot. Then I make lunch, usually something cold, and get to working on whatever machine has most recently taken my fancy. I’ll eat sometime around then. I have a bell that goes off when it’s time to make dinner and stop working. I make dinner, I eat, I take a bath and relax for awhile. Then I go to sleep.”

“That’s simple. I rather envy it.”

“On days I rest, I go to visit everyone and usually play with Marvel and the others for awhile — envy? Frère, you had a mansion and everything.”

“I was satisfied in my luxury, but happiness eluded me, even in quiet moments.”

“Then you can live here and try my way of life?”

“I envy it, but I don’t think I want your life, exactly. Nor am I too keen on living out here.”

“You still want the mansion.”

“Very much so.” He ate a part of the omelette and hummed. “It’s well-made. Almost as good as a Qu’s cooking.”

“Quina taught me to cook when she found out I was eating plain sandwiches and whatever else daily. She said it was an affront to the palate to not explore flavor. All my meals were perfectly nutritious, but I do feel better after eating one that’s tasty.”

“As do I. The meals on Terra were… unsatisfactory in the ways that matter.”  
  
“Weren’t they? They were awful! As soon as we found out we could influence the flavor of things, so much changed!” Her face lit up brightly. Kuja couldn’t help but smile with her as she started talking more about everything that had transpired in Black Mage Village since what came to be known as Iifa’s Collapse. After learning about flavor manipulation, all the time they had once spent on coming up with new types of genomes brought forth a whirlwind of innovation. New literature, new clothes, a few of them tried to pick up magic. Kuja realized partway through that she was forgetting to eat in her excitement and reached over automatically to feed her properly. She accepted his help without question, chewing and looking at him with those bright green eyes of hers.

Had he deigned not to kill Zidane because he had had a soft spot for him, even then? Hadn’t it been because he was superior to him?

“Oh, and the Roos collapsed, too. Fossil Roo to Lindblum and Gargan Roo between Treno and Alexandria City,” Mikoto said.

“Is that so?” Kuja said. “Totally impassable?”

“Totally. We’ve tried a lot.”

He thought he might be able to clear a path with his magic, but the work would take ages for a tunnel such as that. “What of the Gargants that evolved to use the roots?”

“They’re… not doing well. A lot of us pitched in to get them back onto something. Wood and metal pipes are running around where we were able to get them, and the Gargant keepers are feeding them and keeping them alive until the kingdoms are able to get to the tunnels.”

“I see.” The Gargants had long fascinated him as a species, being as they evolved to make use of the Iifa Tree in unexpected ways. How interesting to see something as simple as a gigantic lizard manage to make a home and meal of a foreign plant.

“It might be hard to leave this continent,” Mikoto said, humming as she scarfed down more omelette.

“It could very well be,” Kuja said. He ate his own, thinking over his options. He could just steal the dinghy, or take the time to clear the path through the Roo, himself. There was also the possibility of going aboard the ship of one of the merchants, loathe as he was to consider it. They would probably know his face.

“There’s a passenger ship that will be coming in 3 days to here and Conde Petie. It leaves 3 days after that, so it would be a week of staying here before you can get to somewhere else.”

“What’s its first stop?”

“Alexandria City,” Mikoto said quietly, figuring he might not like that.

Kuja did not like that.

“Of course it is.” He sighed. “It seems that fate is consigning me to at least ending up there. If I may ask, why is it that ships land on the beach? Why not come closer?”

“We give guided tours through the woods as a tourist attraction, so people really get the sense of the sequestered-ness of this area. Apparently it’s popular?” Mikoto shrugged.

“Sounds like a horrible time, trekking all around.”

“I enjoy it. Then again, I don’t get exhausted so easily.”

“Of course not. Genome bodies are built to be the perfect vessels for the immortal Terrans. Getting tired or sick is a bad thing for them,” Kuja said. Mikoto nodded.

“We did a lot of work on that sort of thing. I wish I had been able to bring some of those plans with me. Oh well. It isn’t like we need to make more of ourselves. And we can do that by other means, regardless.”

“Right, genetic diversity.” Kuja decided to steer away from that topic. “So people like feeling like they’re truly in the middle of nowhere when coming here, and instead of just taking an airship in, which I assume have come to be more used, they trek through the woods and across the plains.”

“You got it. And airships are becoming a much more common mode of travel for a lot of people, which is also part of why we’re looking for new sources of energy. If coal mines run out, we won’t meet demand. If coal continues getting burned, it will result in a heat-related planet death as the atmosphere essentially clogs up too much to let off heat.”

“Ah, yes. I believe Zidane once likened it to _sweating_. He said that the planet needs to sweat out the heat. I thought it ridiculous at the time, but it does seem rather… accurate, in a blundering sort of way,” Kuja said, partly proud that Zidane had been able to grasp such a concept so young and partly annoyed that there was anything good about him. There were parts of Kuja that wanted to hate him and couldn’t, not even a little bit.

Mikoto thought it over, then laughed. “Yeah! That sounds pretty accurate to me! The planet has to give off heat somehow, right? So the heat death would be more like heat exhaustion with the pores unable to produce sweat, akin to how the planet can’t filter the heat away.”

“Indeed.” Kuja chuckled. “You’re wrapped up in the future of this planet to an extent I hadn’t thought you would care to be.”

“You barely know me. We only met yesterday, and most of that was focused on you crying.”

Ouch. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”

“I only pull pranks,” Mikoto said, face so straight that Kuja burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You were completely deadpan delivering that line. It was comedic. Perhaps I just needed a laugh.” Kuja hid his face behind his sleeve until he recovered himself.

“You have a nice laugh. It’s like music.” She cocked her head to the side and hummed for a bit, looking for a proper descriptor. “Like Terra, the parts that were alive.”

“Is that so?” He wasn’t sure how to feel, being compared to _Terra_ of all things. It had been such a horrid place in the end. His memories surrounding it were… less than savory, to say the least.

“Yes. Specifically the parts that were alive.”

“Those parts. The trees and grasses.”

“And the animals.”

“Those were monsters.”

“What is a monster, but that which we fear?” Mikoto asked.

“Wise,” was all Kuja said in response. “Then, I’m a monster.”

“Not to me. You’re a feral cat.”

“How is that much better?”

“Cats can be petted and fed and let into the house.”

“… I suppose so.” Kuja hummed, unsure of how he felt, being compared that way to a _cat_. Still, the living parts of Terra and cat were better than Angel of Death. Once they finished eating, Kuja was taught how to do dishes, and then shown how to wash clothes.

“This is ridiculous. Why does it take so much effort to wash a garment? You like machines. Make one for this,” Kuja said, shoving his precious coat against a washboard.

“I prefer airships,” Mikoto said simply. He whimpered dramatically.

Still, the clothes were washed. Kuja realized that he was severely underpaying his servants for the work they did, given how tedious and horrible that was. Mikoto was snickering under her breath the entire time watching him struggle with getting smells and dirt out.

“Frère, do you think you’ll ever come back here?”

“To this town? Why not?” he said. “I can see myself getting annoyed with Zidane and needing somewhere to go for a few days to take a break from him.”

“I’m glad. I’ll keep the bed ready for you.” She smiled.

“You speak as if I’m leaving today.”

“I wonder if you won’t, if you’ll decide to leave earlier than expected and go somewhere else for awhile, somewhere away from the beach and boat so you don’t have to face him.”

“And what if I did?” Now that she mentioned it, that Eidolon Wall could do with a little investigation… And who better than the one who took over Bahamut?

“Then I’ll kidnap you and take you to Alexandria, myself. You have six days to decide, Frère.” Mikoto shrugged. Kuja stood dumbfounded behind her as she hung up the clothes on a line. Did it run in the family or something!?

“You really are our sibling,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hm?”

“Your line of action is to kidnap someone in order to solve a problem. As I recall, Zidane did the same with Garnet, and I cannot deny my own past,” he said with a flourished shrug.

“Huh. I guess it _is_ a family thing. How interesting. Anyway, feel free to wander the village without me. I doubt you’ll get into much trouble,” Mikoto said.

“Getting to work?”

“I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. I’ll fetch you for dinner, though. I’m making stew tonight.”

“Sounds good.” Kuja nodded and wandered away. He did need some time with his thoughts and decided to head to the pond to sit for a bit.

There were people surrounding it, both residents and visitors. So they had people present regardless of whether the boats were here. Interesting. Part of him wondered how far it was to the Summoners’ village from here as he sat by the shore with his hat on. Buried as he was in the cloth of the black mage getup, he wondered if anyone would be able to recognize him.

His thoughts turned to rather mundane things, wondering if or where he would settle down now that he was alive again for some time, if he would go back to the Desert Palace sometime in the future, if there was something here he would be satisfied to do. At some point, his tail had wormed its way out of his pants where he had tucked it and taken to his hands, giving him something soft to pet while he pondered. He stopped petting when he realized what he was doing.

“Where did you get your tail from, Mr. Kuja?” asked a voice. Kuja looked over at the tiny one from before — or else one of its siblings.

“From whence, you ask? Why the question?” he returned. “Are you the one named Marvel?”

“That’s me! I was told that you didn’t have a tail at all, is all,” Marvel said.

“Ah, I see. Well, for awhile I didn’t. It was unneeded, unnecessary.” Garland could have edited his body at any time, anyway, (apparently), so it didn’t matter if he had one while out and about or not.

_Unneeded._ He shook his head and cleared his throat.

“So why do you have one now?”

Damn, he had looped right back to the original question. Oops. “A long story, and one I would rather not tell, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Oh.” Marvel plopped down on the grass next to him. “Aunty Mikoto says that my dad was a hero. I didn’t really get to meet him. He stopped moving around when I was born, but I got to say hello once.”

“That’s nice,” Kuja said, trying to say it meaningfully. It _was_ nice that this one, born of Vivi, was able to meet him and have a pleasant time.

“There’s a statue for him in the middle of the village.”

“There is?”

“Yeah! Wanna see it?”

“Er. Sure.” Kuja got up with Marvel and found his hand grasped by the tiny gloved hand of the tiny black mage who was far tinier than the one that had shocked and burned him during their battle. Part of him wondered if this kid would ever hit so hard.

They went through the town itself and along what had clearly become a main avenue, though it was separate from the market Mikoto lived by. Kuja hummed as he realized this place was far larger than he had anticipated. He wondered how quickly he could lose Mikoto here if he wanted to wander away to another place before that boat arrived.

At the end of the main street was a square like Alexandria’s, and, much like Alexandria’s, it had a statue in the center, this one of Vivi, standing straight and regal with his staff dug into the ground at his side. Kuja stared up at it and took a deep breath in. He removed his hat, partly to see, partly out of respect for the dead.

Respect for the dead. It was something he had always laughed at disdainfully. What childish nonsense, to grieve for someone when you would be joining them one day. Why bother, he had always thought. But now…

“He saved the world,” Marvel said quietly. Kuja looked down at him, remembered that final battle, when Vivi had, over and over, pushed himself to his limits to kill Kuja, tranced and tranced again, cast one spell after another. Kuja had thought him a bug, then annoying, then a genuine threat. Now he was dead, and Kuja was alive, and it should have been the other way around. It should have been…

“Mr.? Why are you crying?”

Kuja looked down into the yellow orbs that comprised Marvel’s eyes and bit his lip as a sob threatened to tear out. He breathed it out slowly and knelt down.

“Would you like to hear a little more about him?” he asked. Marvel’s eyes widened.

“You knew him?”

“I can’t say I knew him well. I know how his body was constructed, but I don’t know _who_ Vivi was, aside from a powerful black mage fueled by righteous indignation.” Kuja picked Marvel up and looked up at Vivi. “He stood by his friends and refused to ever give up. He gained life when it wasn’t supposed to happen, had a will to live stronger than any other. He fought and defeated a sorcerer built to be far more powerful. Vivi… Vivi was a marvel unlike any other in the world.”

Vivi should be the one alive. Vivi wasn’t the one alive.

“Do _you_ wanna hear more about him?” Marvel asked.

“I would,” Kuja said, resting Marvel on his hip. Marvel told him everything about Vivi, from his first time gaining consciousness at the house of Quan Qu to his time in Treno, to his journey to Alexandria that took him to the stage of the _Prima Vista,_ his adventures with his new friends through the Evil Forest and onward through Dali, to the factory and Lindblum. It was obvious that this story was one that Marvel had heard many times, and he enjoyed telling it, too.

“One day, I hope to be a great mage just like him,” Marvel said.

“As do I,” Kuja said quietly. Certainly, he could cast Ultima when it suited him to do so, but to fuel his power by emotion, to be caring and compassionate to others…

Marvel went off to play with other children of the village soon after, leaving Kuja at the foot of the statue.

_Vivi… I… I’m sorry._ Kuja fell to his knees and pressed his head against the pedestal, whispered against its metal. “I should have been more compassionate toward those around me. I was far from the perfection I thought I was, I see that now. If you’re out there somewhere, please, _please_ help me.”

He didn’t know how long he was there, but people stayed away from him until someone finally tapped him on the shoulder.

“Frère?” Mikoto asked. “You’ve been here awhile.”

“Have I?” He chuckled and stood, eyes red.

“Make sure to drink water. You’ve been crying a lot,” Mikoto said, handing him a flask of water. Kuja drank it, realized how thirsty he was when his mouth wouldn’t stop.

“Vivi loved being alive. He loved new experiences and feelings. He hated being scared and thought he would be afraid of death at the end, but he wasn’t. He was at peace. We talked about what happened, with you and Zidane and everything. He said that he hoped you found peace at the end like he had.”

“Why?” Kuja asked. “I… I had tried to destroy the world. Why would he wish peace for me?”

“Because he saw himself in you, I think. Lost, alone, and scared of things you couldn’t understand or control. He saw a child trying to be the adult he was expected to be.”

“Ridiculous.” Kuja swallowed thickly. Wasn’t that an apt description for him? Just a child? Naive and stupid like the dolls he made. “Emotions help us grow as people. I didn’t have emotions. I never grew.”

“No, I don’t think you did,” Mikoto said, matching his somber tone.

“Now I have them. Yesterday’s mistakes are today’s reflection and won’t be tomorrow’s action.”

She nodded and looked at him. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to Alexandria Castle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-;


	6. Hope Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja... suffice to say he isn't handling things well. And they're going to simultaneously get better and not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicide

Mikoto smiled when he said that. “I’m glad. I really thought I was going to have to take the spare dinghy out to Madain Sari or something to find you and take you out.”

“Spare? And why Madain Sari?” Kuja asked.

“I figured it’s a good place to go to if you want to be alone and unbothered, since it’s nothing but ruins. It’s also within a walk’s journey and has plenty of research material to keep someone like you occupied. As for the spare, well, you hate doing things yourself and would prefer a fast mode of travel that wasn’t so dusty on your clothes. Meaning you’d likely take my boat,” she said, pouting.

He tried to retort, he really did, but there was nothing he could even hope to say to that. She got it all and even came up with the dusty problem that was so him. “You got me.”

His days were spent talking to the villagers and practicing being a normal person, apologizing to each of them for either taking advantage of them or destroying their old home. His nights were spent talking to Mikoto and listening to her as she went off about machines and the drama that rose up around the engineers she had met. Before bedtime, Kuja would sing her to sleep and inevitably end up curled in her bed. It was more comfortable for him to have her nearby, and he could tell she liked it, too.

In the night, worries and fears would plague him like haunting ghosts, reminding him of every action he had taken up to that point, telling him that his brother had thought things over and decided that Kuja was only bad news. Over and over again he played out those memories. Absorbing the souls, going into Trance, kicking Garland off the edge, using Ultima to destroy Terra, watching it fall to ruin before leaving through the portal. It had kicked up so much dust in the void, he had wondered at not choking at the time on everything that flew around.

He wondered if every genome had escaped, if some of them had become dust.

_He should be dust, he should be dust, he should be dust he should be dust._

Running through Memoria, flying along and pausing only long enough to summon the monsters that would stop or slow his accursed brother and the brat’s friends. Using the Crystal itself to summon forth the spirits he knew from his memories, from the planet’s memories. Such manipulation… His Ultima spell that had hit Zidane and the others when they faced him hadn’t even scratched the surface, but for a moment, he had known the warmth of emotion. Their battle against Necron had shown him the truest meaning of life that gave them a reason to fight. In an instant, they had changed him.

He owed them. He owed them all so much. He owed Vivi, especially, for making such wonderful use of what Kuja had thought a marvelous gift and could only now see as a curse. Mikoto had fixed the problem of the black mages dying. Tears streamed down Kuja’s face in the dark as he turned from Mikoto and tried to stay quiet about it. He had caused so many problems for so many people. Lindblum was in tatters, though only in one district. Alexandria was in ruins. Burmecia was so destroyed the people had had to flee wherever they could. Cleyra was open to the world instead of protected. It was his fault.

It was all his fault. He shouldn’t be allowed to live. It wasn’t fair to those who had died for their killer to be alive.

He left the bed.

A genome’s body still has some mortal limitations, even if those limitations aren’t the same as they are for organically born creatures. He could drown in the pond by morning. His body would rise and they could fish it out. Kuja left a note to Mikoto not to tell Zidane that he had returned to life at all. It would hurt him too much to find out that Kuja had thrown it away a second time.

He walked quietly in his mage coat to the pond, barely registering the world around him as his feet led the way until he reached the edge. There was only a moment’s pause, and then he was stepping into the cold water. It made him shiver, which got his mind to stutter and think for just a moment. Hadn’t he just earlier refused to step into a cold pool? His consciousness slid back down into the comforting darkness that enveloped it. One step after another, until he was up to his waist. His senses were dulled as he fell forward into the water.

The hand on his collar that dragged him out like a cat was unexpected and unwanted. Kuja barely managed the energy to furrow his brow and glare weakly at whoever had the audacity to stop him from doing something good for once.

It was Amarant. He’d recognize the shock of red locs and stern face of his old security guard. The man had been someone who trusted him for payment, only to be betrayed by Kuja when Kuja wanted to cause some chaos and torment in someone’s life by framing him for the theft from the auction house.

He opened his mouth to speak as Amarant dragged him away from the water and sat him on the edge.

“Where are you staying around here?” Amarant asked.

“Nowhere in particular,” Kuja said, looking away.

“You sure? I met Mikoto earlier and she said you had come back and were staying with her.”

“Why ask if you know the answer?” Kuja asked, tail thumping and getting dew on the pond water it was soaked with.

“Dunno. Wanted to see how aware you are right now.”

“I’m plenty aware. I can look around and understand what I’m seeing.”

“Didn’t look that way before. And I’m not asking about your senses. Do you get that someone who never met you took you in because she saw something worthwhile in you?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re throwing your life away. You got a second chance. Not a lot of people can say that.”

“As well you should know. You’re a bounty hunter.”

“And you were King. Guess it just makes sense, somehow, that I’m saving your ass.”

“I suppose so.” Kuja sighed and curled up. “My fault,” he said quietly.

“Huh?”

“It was my fault you were framed for the theft and banned from Treno. I was the one who suggested it.”

“It made sense with the evidence you all had at the time.”

“No. I’ve known you awhile. I know how honest your heart is. I know how proud you were of your job and your skills, how happy you were to be so trusted as to guard the auction house, Treno’s epicenter of economy.” Kuja curled up tighter, his tail curling tightly around his legs and body. “I knew you would never do it and that you had to have lost a fight with the one responsible. _I_ framed you because I wanted to watch you break down.”

“That’s psychotic.”

“It very much is. I’ve done a lot to a lot of people on very personal levels. I can’t atone for what I’ve done, so the only option left to me is to—“

“It isn’t your only option.Le vent se lève. Il faut tenter de vivre.”

“The wind is rising, and we must live,” Kuja translated, wanting to ask where he had heard it. Amarant nodded, then looked behind him. Kuja did the same and saw a figure moving forward, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Frère?” Mikoto asked, always coming in at what Kuja felt were the worst and best times. “What happened?”

“I…” He teared up and turned away. She rushed forward and held him, forcing the tears closer to spilling. He held them back, but when he looked at her, at the anguish on her face knowing what he was about to do, they spilled out.

“Gonna be honest, Kuja. What you did to me was horrible. I was at the end of my sanity pretty soon after that, met Lani, became a bounty hunter. Things started to look up, but I got my revenge when I smacked you down at the end of the line. I don’t bear anything personal against you anymore. The others are a different story. And don’t think that means I trust you.”

Kuja nodded and tried to breathe properly. Mikoto stroked his hair.

“You really did a number on everyone alive,” she said. He nodded more. “You can’t die yet. Since you’re alive, you should at least try to help a few people.”

“Wouldn’t that just be for self-gratification? So I can pretend to make a difference? Kindness out of selfishness, isn’t that a bad thing?”

“Gotta start somewhere,” Amarant said. “Selfishness isn’t a bad start.”

“The boat leaves tomorrow for Alexandria. Do you want me to go with you?” Mikoto asked.

“Yes. I do.” Kuja sniffled and steadied his breathing. It was shaking and wracked his ribcage.

“You’re new to emotions. It’s understandable that they’ll be overwhelming. It’s okay to hold someone when you can’t handle them by yourself,” Mikoto said. Kuja hugged her tightly and sobbed.

_I don’t want to be so weak. I don’t want to have to rely on people or burden them,_ was what he tried to say, but his voice had come out only with more sobs. Mikoto just stroked his hair until he was able to move, then took him home again. Amarant followed to make sure they made it okay before departing to his inn room.

“I’m sorry,” Kuja said. “I…”

“You should be. But it’s okay. I don’t totally understand how you feel. In fact, I’m the opposite way. Even in my wildest dreams, I could never think of dying. Life is too precious to me. But I can see why you want to give it up.”

“I can see why you want to hold onto it so dearly.” Kuja smiled and retreated to his room ~~for once.~~ Mikoto watched him go, then ended up following him and holding onto him there, instead.

“Go sleep in your own bed.”

“You’re on suicide watch, now. I’m not letting go.”

“Alright, alright. I promise I won’t try again, too,” Kuja said, chuckling. Mikoto dragged him down and nestled his head against her, nuzzled his hair, curled her tail over him and soon fell back to sleep. He did the same moments later, his own tail wrapping lightly on her as they shared the space.

In the morning, Kuja got up and dressed in his mage attire, unhappy about his old clothes. He had been so distraught the past couple weeks that he hadn’t noticed the utter disrepair they were in. No spell was saving them now. That left him with the mage clothes.

A knock came to the door. Kuja didn’t hesitate this time and opened it up to see Estienne again. “Hello there.”

“Hello, Kuja. I brought your new clothes for you,” Estienne said, handing over another pile of clothing. Kuja accepted it gratefully. “Mikoto mentioned that I ought to bill Alexandria for it, so please take the receipt with you.”

“I will.” He found it tucked into the folds of clothing. There were quite a few zeroes on the gil mark. He had to admit, he was pretty proud of that.

Kuja went back to change. The new clothes were in purple, white, and gold, as his old ones had been. The shirt had a high but loose collar lined in gold, extending only over his pecs, though a rhombus shaped piece extended further. A white and gold shawl wrapped nicely over his shoulders, matching with a new half-skirt that fluffed out in a flat circle around him with points at the front. Black shorts went on underneath, a small purple and gold skirt went over it, covering him well. The only thing he would change was the Terran triforce on the front of it, but that was fine as it was. There was a pair of purple and gold gloves, too, that left his palms and fingers open and the backs of his hands enclosed, all the way up his arms.

“What do you think?” he asked Mikoto, showing off the outfit to her. She smiled.

“It looks really good on you!”

Mikoto went with him to the beach, following the return group. Amarant and Lani were coming with them, as well. Kuja offered his arm for Mikoto to take like the nobles did their ladies. Mikoto giggled and took it, feeling very fancy on their walk through the backwoods. They arrived on the beach together. Lani was holding Amarant’s hand, and Mikoto whacked Kuja’s arm to get him to notice, looking very happy about the two of them. Kuja smiled lightly and continued forward.

It was around 30 people who boarded the boat. Not nearly as many as Kuja may have expected, but it made sense for the place in a way. He stuck close to the few he knew. Mikoto was talking about the ship and how nice it was that it could run on water.  
  
“I wonder if we can get ships to use the water in the air…?”

“That’s a possibility.”

“I’ve been looking at the solar panels in this tablet, and I think we’re a little too far behind right now to make good use of them,” Mikoto said. “So maybe we can harness the wind first.”

Kuja nodded. “To do so, you’ll need to use propellers that are hooked to a generator.”

“And then the generator makes the power needed to run the ship.” She nodded. “ _Prima Vista_ style.”

“ _Prima Vista_ style.” He did remember the propellers that spun on that ship. They had collected and utilized the Mist quite efficiently.

The boat left port and sailed off over the sea. People went belowdecks to find their cabins. Kuja and the others did the same. As it turned out, there was one for all four of them, complete with two bunks on either side of a tiny room.

“Does anyone snore?” Lani asked jokingly.

“Kuja does, softly,” Mikoto said.

“I most certainly do not,” Kuja retorted.

“You do, but it’s soft and rhythmic, so just about the most perfect snoring there is.” She giggled and picked one of the top bunks. Lani took the other, leaving Kuja and Amarant to take the bunks below. Kuja didn’t mind. He enjoyed being closer to the floor in a place where he could get rocked out of bed.

Once they were settled in, they broke off to wherever they wanted. Amarant took to the yardarms to meditate while the crews didn’t need to be up there. Lani leaned on the bulwarks among throngs of other people. Well, one throng, since there were only 30 passengers total. Mikoto was talking to whichever crewman had time for her and rotating between them, asking about their jobs and maintenance they did.

Kuja wandered and spoke to people at random, found a couple noblemen from Treno and actively avoided them. Mostly people were awed that artificial beings could be constructed and he had to withhold from laughing. One couple asked about his tail, making him self-conscious of its presence. He hid it after ending that conversation soon after with a nondescript answer about his origins.

The nobles couldn’t be avoided forever, and with him still rocking his beloved feather headpiece, he was rather unmistakable, even in that crowd.

“Kuja! Is that you?” one asked.

“Hm? No, you must have me mistaken for someone else,” Kuja said, smiling in a way that the old Kuja would never. He waved them off, tail instinctively retracted and hidden away.

“There’s no mistaking that hair and those clothes. You’re Kuja,” the man said. He laughed. “You should have told me that you were planning to send all the countries to war with one another. There’s a lot of money to be made selling weapons.”

Kuja blinked. That was… unexpected.

“I see.” Good he hadn’t taken this man up, he supposed. Alexandria would have been armed to the teeth, more than they already had been. “Well, the plan ultimately failed. You would have been implicated in crimes against humanity and hanged by Alexandria, so best I didn’t, hm?”

The nobleman blinked. His wife swallowed thickly. Kuja raised an eyebrow.

“Something the matter?”

“N-no, nothing at all. It’s just unusual for you to think of such consequences. Normally, we would hear you talk about how it was too bad, so sad for someone to end up poor with a single item because the auctions had gone so high.”

“Money and war are two different beasts,” Kuja said, shrugging as he turned away.

“Hold on! I didn’t see you on the boat in here, so how did you come to be in the Black Mage City?”

“I was visiting my little sister. She’s traveling with me now to Alexandria Castle.”

“You’ve been invited to Alexandria Castle? Well, it is as you say, Kuja. You’ll be facing the hangman’s noose there.”

“That is a distinct possibility.” Kuja raised an eyebrow again, a dangerous glint now in his eye. The man tried to catch his arm. “Perhaps I’ll tell her that you were the one who aided me in planning my strategy to destroy them all.”

The man let go. “Right…”

“Anyway. I’m traveling incognito for reasons I’m sure you understand, so I expect you’ll hold your tongue,” Kuja said. The man nodded and walked away hurriedly with his wife. Kuja sighed and joined Lani on the railing.

“You’re popular.”

“Always have been. Now, having my name known far and wide is troublesome.”

“Because you’re a wanted man. You should ask Amarant how he deals with it,” Lani said, chuckling. Kuja snorted.

“Like I’d be able to get information from him. He was barely friends with Zidane until near the end from what Mikoto told me. Considering what I did, I doubt very much he would tell me anything worthwhile.” Kuja shook his head.

“Don’t sell him short. He’s a single-minded kind of guy, but he does have a good heart.”

“I’m aware. He’s honest and good. It’s what made him such a nice target for framing after the robbery. Zidane did a good job on his end, but my word was the linchpin for it.” Kuja stared out into the water. Lani nodded.

“I heard about that. He wasn’t happy at all when he came back in the middle of the night from his stroll.”

“Talking about me?” Amarant dropped down behind them and stood on Lani’s other side.

“Yes. Amarant, what do you think of the nobles of Treno?” Kuja asked.

“Bunch of stuck-up pricks with too much gold to consider the people around them,” he said. Kuja nodded.

“That sounds about right. There’s a pair here. One said he would have sold weapons if he had known there was a war starting,” Kuja said, furrowing his brow.

“Imagine that,” Amarant said.

“It disgusted me to hear.”

“That seems out of character.”

“Indeed. It seems Mikoto was right about me. Before, I would have been flattered at his offer and inevitably taken advantage of it to get ahead of the game in one way or another.” _Game._ Like lives were something to toy with. Kuja wrinkled his nose in disgust at that and hung his head.

“What’s the matter this time, crybaby?” she asked jokingly. Kuja looked at her.

“I used to toy with the lives of others. I can hardly stand to think of doing so now.” His look grew more somber. Flashes of corpses, of screaming, of burned dolls and crying children and mothers clutching bodies at the end of their worlds. He had seen and caused it all. Lani nodded.

“I lost my home to war. We were a little village in Alexandria Kingdom. My mother said we used to come from a people who had disappeared, but there weren’t any around anymore. We had commingled with the local populations so much that our power was dwindling, too. You’re lookin’ at a rare type, a bonafide black mage. Not like the dolls in the City.”

“You are?” Kuja blinked and stared.

“Yeah. What? I’m not the only one with abilities, you know.”

“Dragoons, blue mages, yes. I didn’t realize anyone on Gaia was capable of black magic.”

“’Course we are! Well, okay. Some of us are. Really just my people.” She hummed. Amarant put a hand on her back. Kuja furrowed his brow. That would certainly need some looking into.

“How interesting. Who taught you to wield magic?” he asked.

“My mother. She’s a gifted black mage, too. Or at least, she was. My village was attacked by an eye in the sky and wiped out. I was able to escape, but only because my mom teleported me away. I’ve been on my own since.”

Kuja froze dead on the spot. Amarant looked at him as he looked at Amarant and nodded. He swallowed thickly.

“That must have been difficult for you. My condolences.”

“Wish I could find that eye. Whatever god decided to obliterate my family has a lot to answer for.”

“I…” He looked at Amarant again, a question in his eyes. Amarant motioned for him to continue. “I know what ‘god’ it was, though calling that bastard a god is pushing it.”

“Really? What was it? Some kind of ultra monster?” Lani looked at him, wanting information, unsure if she really wanted it. Kuja shook his head in response.

“It was an airship called the _Invincible._ Originally made as a weapon of war, it doubled as a storehouse for the souls of thousands. It was used in a plan to wipe out this world’s life bit by bit to make room for the souls of another world.”  
  
“That’s Terra, right? Amarant told me some stuff about it.”

“Yes, that was Terra. My creator, Garland, used the ship often to wipe towns and villages off the map as he felt he needed. He… sent me to destroy Madain Sari, the home of the Summoners. He feared their power. It is likely he feared the power of your people, as well. I don’t remember everything I did with precision, but it’s undeniable that I’m responsible for the deaths of your family and home.” Kuja stared out into the water again, heart pounding, racing, head dizzy, wishing more than anything that he could just disappear.

Lani decked him full in the face and shoved him to the ground. Kuja winced and curled up a bit when he met the deck.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Lani screeched. She dragged him up by the collar and near tore it as everyone looked over. He should apologize to Estienne.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it, bucko!”

“I know.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself! What kind of psychopath goes around murdering people!?”

“I–“ What could he even respond with? There was nothing he could do for her.

“My mother is dead! My father is dead! I had siblings! They’re all gone, and you’re telling me it’s _your fault_!?”

“Yes. I can’t bring them back.” Kuja bit his lip and tried to stop from crying. The last thing he needed was pity or for her to go easy on him because he was crying.

“You’re damn right you can’t! How many other people have died because of you!?”

“Every war in the past 24 years was me,” Kuja said quietly. “Every village destroyed, every town decimated. People who died in violence were almost certainly killed by my hand.”

Lani screamed in fury and threw him overboard.

“Kuja!” Mikoto launched at the bulwark and looked over in horror as her brother sank beneath the waves. She jumped in, and Amarant sought to pull them both up, getting some rope from a concerned crewman. Lani stared in shock as they moved to save him.

“Amarant, what are you doing?” she asked, eyes wide.

“He framed me for theft in Treno,” Amarant said. “I’d prefer if he died. He should be dead. Still… You can see it in his eyes, can’t you?”

“…” She put her hands on the rope to pull.

Mikoto dove into the water and swam for Kuja, determined to save him. She got her hands around his waist and glared him into swimming for the surface. The two of them broke the surface and gasped for air. Amarant made a loop in the rope and threw it in. Mikoto got Kuja secured inside it, then hung on as the pair above started pulling. Others moved to do the same, dragging the end back further and further, heaving as a single unit, until the genomes were onboard. The crewmate from before got them towels to dry off.

“What happened?” the captain asked, coming up. Lani opened her mouth to confess to throwing him. Kuja threw a small **silence** spell at her and stood.

“I was careless, sir. I leaned too far over and fell into the water.” There was a chance it could come down negatively on Lani, and he couldn’t let that happen. It was small and insignificant, but he could do _something_ for her.

“I see.” The captain looked to the crewmate, who fishmouthed and _uhh_ ed uselessly before shrugging.

“All I heard was screaming, sir,” the crewmate finally said. Kuja nodded.

“She freaked out like my sister,” he said smoothly, wrapping the towel around him.

“Let’s get you belowdecks to the cabin,” Lani said, gripping him by the scruff. Kuja screamed a little on the inside at the force of the grip. And he thought Amarant’s punches hurt. This one was suited for the guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt originally intend for him to almost drown twice but here we are


	7. Hope Restored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja remembers another important thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late by a day, it's okay

After being manhandled for a few minutes and going down to their room, Lani threw Kuja onto his bed and put her hands on her hips. “Start talkin’. These two like you enough to save your life despite everything you’ve done. Then you go and lie on my behalf? Why? What’s your angle?”

Kuja sat up and contemplated quickly on what to tell her. What could he say that wouldn’t sound like he was trying to get sympathy? What would she believe that would convince her he was trying to improve?

“Amarant said there’s something in your eyes. I never met you before, so maybe he knows something I don’t, but…” Lani sighed. “I’m trying not to be the self-centered hothead I once was. No more taking hostages, no more doing anything and everything for money, no more leaving bad reviews at inns because of a moogle.”

Mikoto giggled in the background.

“And there’s some part of me that sees myself in you, at least the part that’s trying to be better than I was. But there’s a huge difference between taking some kid hostage and killing thousands of people!”

“I’m well aware.” He hummed, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I was beyond self-centered before. I was practically in love with my own brilliance, my power, my prestige. I was the single greatest being ever to exist. However, I was created to kill for the purposes of another.”

“Created?” Lani interrupted. Kuja nodded.

“I am a genome, with all that entails.”

“Uh-huh. The other genomes don’t kill indiscriminately.”

“The other genomes weren’t given souls to make them into unique beings. They also weren’t made to be Angels of Death.” Kuja gripped the sheets under him and took a deep breath, then locked gazes with Lani. “I was created by Garland to kill the citizens of Gaia in order to make room for the souls of Terra. It was more complex than that, but that was the gist of my part of it. I never knew the value of life until I was on my deathbed. Now that I do… It’s far too late.”

“You’re damn right it is.” Lani glared at him. A spark lit in his memories, coming into his mind oh-so-helpfully. He closed his eyes and willed them away, but he had… he had seen those eyes, hadn’t he?

“However, I died, somewhat. I am unsure of how exactly it is that I came to be alive, but I am and restored. Since I awoke and returned to this world, I have been thinking of how to spend it. Thus, I have decided to do what I can for those who are still alive.”

“That’s why your eyes aren’t like I’d expect from someone who razed an entire village,” Lani said, still glaring. He nodded and tried to hide a bit from them.

“I’m gonna need some time,” she said a moment later. Lani swept toward the door and walked out to who knew where. Amarant followed her. In the still quiet that followed, Kuja breathed a small sigh of relief that she hadn’t hit him again. For a moment, he considered casting a cure spell on himself, but decided against it. She had gotten him square on the eye. It would do him some good to see that while it was around. Mikoto went over and tried to cast cure. He stopped her.

“Leave it.” It hurt.

“Frère,” Mikoto said. “It isn’t good to leave a wound untreated. It’s going to bruise up and you won’t be able to see.”

“I know,” Kuja said. Mikoto furrowed her brow, then whacked him over the head and set to curing it. “At least let me stop it from hurting,” she said.

“Alright.” Not like he could stop her now that the spell was working on him. He stayed put in the cabin after she finished, after she left the room, stayed when she brought him some food. He left only so the girls could have privacy to change that night, staying by Amarant. A single glance at Lani as she passed him brought the memory of that glare back, annoyingly.

Why did he remember such a thing?

When they were ready, he went back into the room and curled up on his bed. Lani huffed and jumped up into hers, then cast a thunder spell and hit Kuja with it. He yelped in pain and didn’t move from where he was.

“Lani,” Amarant chastised.

“Yeah, what?” She turned around and ignored Amarant as he stretched up and talked to her about casting indoors. Kuja breathed a small sigh of relief that that was the case and he wasn’t about to be defended. It would have been bold on Amarant’s part to say anything kind on his behalf.

Amarant gave up soon after. The lights went out with things being tense. In the night, as the darkness enveloped him, memories of his old life once again came to Kuja’s mind. Foremost among them were the eyes. And then he could see the face they belonged to.

“You’re not taking this village down!” a woman shouted. She glared at him with fire in her eyes. Kuja laughed behind his sleeve.

“How quaint of you to put up a front when you know the truth,” he said. The woman started a fireball in her hand, brought it up and around to boost its power, then cast it at him. Kuja merely smirked before waving it off easily. He speared her through with ice.

Those same eyes…

He got up and climbed up to Lani’s bunk. 

“Miss Lani,” Kuja said quietly.

“What?” she hissed.

“I remembered that night. May I ask to see your fireball on deck?” he asked. Lani stared at him, eyes narrowing.

“I suppose,” she said. They slipped out of the room and off to the top deck.

“So you want me to burn you to death?”

“You won’t succeed, but yes. Show me how you cast it.” She had been young.

“Mama!” A little girl looked to the woman standing before Kuja, eyes wide with fear. He’d relish this. Then the woman cast a teleportation spell and the girl disappeared. No matter, he’d have fun regardless. The woman turned to him and strode forward, the buildings around her already on fire from Kuja’s spells. Bodies lay charred and bloodied among the wreckage.

“You’re not taking this village down!”

She had been so young, so tiny, but so much like her mother. Lani cast a fireball, the way that she had seen her mother do it, but there were things off with it.

“As I suspected. You cast like she does,” he said.

“Like who?”

“Your mother, the bravest woman I ever encountered. She screamed at the heavens that night. I was so intrigued I came down to investigate her. That was when she sent you away and cast her fireball in much the same way you did, though I believe her movements were more like this.” He replicated it perfectly from his memory. Lani blinked and copied them.

“Yeah, this feels right.” She tried again and cast Fira by accident. Kuja tried to snuff it out and failed. He made a shield with ice in a panic as the fire roared and slammed against it. That was… concerning. Lani launched another the same way. For a moment, there was a smile on her face. Kuja smiled, himself, then let her next attack hit him directly.

“You blocked it last time!” she shouted, confused.

“I was caught off-guard by your smile. It was genuine,” he replied, peeling himself off the deck and feeling crispy. He cast cure over himself and rubbed his cheek with one hand as it healed him up. “Well done. I dare say it has the power of hers.”

“You think so?” Lani came over and helped Kuja up, then stood nervously in front of him and looked away. “I, uh. Since I’m trying to be a better person and all… Thanks for showing me how she cast magic. It really means a lot to me to have a piece of her.”

“You’re welcome,” Kuja said, confused over the idea. “To have a piece of her? I’m afraid I’m confused by this sentiment.”

“Wow, you really are new to emotion, aren’t you?” Lani teased. “I was 3 when my mother died. I knew I could cast magic because she had been teaching me the basics, but I never really learned how to do it the way she always did it. Now that I know how she cast a fireball, I can probably figure out the other spells. I wouldn’t be able to without you.”

Kuja hummed and nodded. So that was it. He knew that the people of Gaia had soft spots for the people around them. Would he want something like that one day? A piece of someone he could carry with him like a tangible memory?

“I’m glad I was able to give this to you. I…” His throat closed. Lani cocked her head. The words refused to leave his throat, so Kuja pulled her forward and rested their heads together, then tried telepathy like he had with Zidane so long ago.

‘I’m sorry I stole her from you.’ He didn’t know the pain of losing someone close to him. He didn’t know the pain of losing a village.

“I don’t need a reason to help people,” his mind supplied, mimicking Zidane’s voice.

Lani stiffened hearing his voice like that, then started crying. The few memories she had came in through the connection. Her mother, smiling in the sun by a window, sewing a little dress, looking so happy when Lani wore it, calling her name, making food. In every memory, there was the warmth of a child who just saw their favorite person. Kuja had never felt anything like it. Had Zidane felt that way about him?

“Kuja? You’re crying,” Lani said.

“I…” He swallowed and tried to wipe the tears away, then shook his head. ‘I never knew what it felt like to have a mother.’

“Seriously? But you had to be born, right? No, wait, genome.” She patted him awkwardly. “Let’s go to sleep, okay? I’m sure we’ll feel better in the morning.”

“That we will,” Kuja said in agreement.

The two of them made it back to the cabin and climbed into their beds until morning. When the sun rose, it hit Kuja directly in the face, making him groan and hide under the covers.

“Rise and shine, Princess!” Lani said loudly, kicking him. Kuja yelped and glared at her from under the covers.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because the sun is out and so are we! Now come on!” She dragged Kuja out of bed and out to the deck. The ship had been moving all night and Alexandria’s outer port was visible from where they were, along with a Lindblum-esque lift from the port at the sea all the way up the cliffside.

“It drops off and has a path to the city of Alexandria,” Mikoto said. “After we finalized the plans with Regent Cid, we were able to build this ourselves.”

“It’s a genome work?”

“It is. Many genomes are working as builders across the world, constructing bridges both physical and metaphorical with the other nations.” She giggled. Kuja smiled and papped her.

“So what were you and Lani doing?” Mikoto asked.

“I fought and killed her mother, but her mother also had a unique way to cast magic that I remembered. I taught it to her, passing it on. She appreciates it.”

“You’re not forgiven.”

“Of course not. That kick made that clear.”

“But she’s more okay with you now. It’s a step forward.”

“It is, indeed.” Kuja leaned on the railing and looked out to the sea, ignoring the port they were coming up on as his stomach starting turning. Now, if the others could be so forgiving… Though, it did give him an idea for how to make things up to them. He knew he could probably do something for Garnet, given that he killed her mother directly. Maybe he could track down Bahamut? Or he could help to rebuild Alexandria. A list of tasks would be helpful.

Still, the closer that that port came, the sicker he felt inside. Kuja leaned over the bulwark of the boat, clinging tightly to it as his stomach clenched on him. Genomes weren’t built to feel sick, not ever, so this was an entirely new feeling for him. It was worse than that time he had tried to port himself from Terra to Gaia and — thankfully — failed.

“Frére?” Mikoto asked, looking at him. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I…” Kuja took a deep breath, then a second. “Sick.”

“Seasick? Let’s go and lie down for a bit in the cabin,” she said, helping him across the deck. Kuja shuffled along with her under his arm and tried to keep himself steady. The stairs into the underbelly were torture. He nearly fell a few times, always saved by his sister. After was the long hallway to their room, and then, with a few run-ins with the wall, he was able to flop onto his bed and roll over onto his back.

“I feel… Apprehensive,” Kuja said. “And it hurts.”

“Maybe more than apprehensive, but you did hurt a lot of people.”

“Regret, shame. Apprehension at being in that city again. People know my face.”

“Amarant and I will be right by your side,” Mikoto said.

“I know. Whether for my sake or the sake of the people in Alexandria to know I’m on a leash, I don’t know,” he said, chuckling and looking at her. Mikoto giggled.

“We’re there to keep you on a leash. If you wander off, you’re going to do something dumb.”

“Like throw myself into a pond to die?”

“Yeah. Or get nervous and start biting like a feral cat. We don’t need wild flare stars flying around.” She laughed some more. Kuja joined her, more out of nervousness than any cheer.

“Right, of course.” He put a hand over his face, covering it with his sleeve, then opened his eyes and stared at the bunk overhead. “Garnet hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Don’t try to lie to me, Mikoto. She has no reason to like me. I killed her mother, after all, hurt her friends, her people.”

“Yes, you did. But I know that Zidane has been talking about you to her, so maybe she doesn’t hate you so much?”

“Perhaps.”

The boat landed an hour later. Lani and Amarant came down to fetch their stuff. Kuja and Mikoto went up with them and waited for the crowd to clear off — not like it would take long. Amarant went down first, quickly followed by Lani. Mikoto took Kuja’s hand and nodded, smiled, helped him take that first step from the boat across the stretch of water, then onto the docks of Alexandria. He breathed deeply, looked up to the blue sky, thought its blue better than that which he had known so long ago.

“Let’s go,” he said, moving forward on shaky legs. “There’s no sense in putting it off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here he goes, here he goes! originally, i planned for him to go from the desert palace to alexandria in a single chapter, maybe 2.


	8. Trepidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja arrives in Alexandria Castle. Oh boy

The lift to the top was smooth. Kuja hummed for a bit with the sound of the quiet machinery as it took them up through the sky. He glared down the Treno couple when they tried to approach. Mikoto giggled and talked to him about the construction of the lift, how they had mixed Terran magitech with Lindblum tech and made it smooth as could be, how the genomes’ knowledge of Terran technology was giving Gaia a boost overall.

“The rebuildings are going smoothly. They can put up a building a day, more or less, with this tech. Everyone has been working together. Lindblum’s theater district is pretty much repaired. There’s a memorial for the lives lost, and Tantalus has been helping them a lot, too, both in repairing stuff and putting on short productions to keep up morale. Burmecia and Cleyra are reunited in Burmecia. Did you know that they separated from Burmecia because of war?”

“Oh? Is that right?” He had heard, of course.

“Mhm. Freya told me once. Cleyrans are peaceful folk. They’re now the cultural leaders for the new Burmecia so everyone can step into a new age together.”

“That’s good to hear. Then I suppose Cleyra itself isn’t coming back?”

“The tree was completely destroyed. There’s nothing left,” Mikoto said, shaking her head. “There are trees in Burmecia. It feels like a good merge of the two groups.”

“That’s good to hear.” Nevermind on rebuilding, then. Everyone had the help they needed. He was, as he knew, useless to this world.

The lift reached the top of the cliff. Mikoto put her hand on Kuja’s shoulder and went with him to the airbus, a small airship with lifting sails that was also hand-powered. He took one side and Amarant the other, squishing the girls between them.

“What gentlemen, keeping the ladyfolk protected,” Lani said.

“More that they’ll assume Amarant and I are threats while you destroy them from their blind spot,” Kuja joked. Lani preened.

“Especially with my new casting style,” she gloated.

“Indeed. It is a terrifying sight to behold.”

The bus moved forward, circling round the lake of Alexandria. The castle was still in ruins in many places, from what they could see through the trees. The sword was unbuilt, even now, no high spire of stone rising over. All things considered, there were better priorities, like being able to live in a house. Garnet was probably focused entirely on giving her citizens security. It would be just like her.

As the trees cleared away and the airbus zoomed on toward its destination, though, the rising sun reflected off the lake and the stones, giving the castle’s white walls an angelic shine. Kuja stared in awe at its beauty as it shone over all.

“Stunning,” he whispered. Mikoto smiled and looked at it, too.

“Isn’t it? Alexandria is so beautiful.”

“It shines as she does, glistening in the face of adversity, no matter the slings and arrows.”

Amarant smiled to hear that.

The bus pulled up at a stop at the gates of Alexandria City and let its passengers off. Several moved onward to other airships to go to their own homes elsewhere. Kuja stayed with his group. His heart raced looking at the gates. Intimidating, tall, still rising high over would-be attackers.

His heart faltered, his steps faltered, his breath quickened. “I can’t do this. I can’t enter.”

“You can do it, Frére,” Mikoto said, holding onto him. She guided him forward. Kuja took the feathers out of his hair and tucked them away, wishing that Estienne had thought to provide him with a new outfit outside his color scheme, or that he had put on his mage clothes. Then he put the feathers back in as the gates were opened to admit people.

The guards didn’t stop him. Did they not know his face? Why was he so nervous about that? He _had_ always been careful about not being seen often…

Inside, the city was changed. Buildings were rebuilt, repainted, brighter than before. Even the cobbles had been washed and were bright. People were smiling and laughing, finishing off cute touches of the city, little bits of paint, little details that put their hearts into the work they did. They all seemed much closer than before.

“There are many people here,” he said quietly.

“Garnet evacuated the city,” Amarant said. “Only a few people died. They were venerated.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kuja said. The population of Alexandria had been around 6,000 before the attack. If only a few died, he assumed that it would be around the same amount of people. At least his crimes amounted to the destruction of most of the city. That could be rebuilt. If Terra’s predicament had taught him anything, it was that the lives of the people were the country more than the land they lived on.

A number of shops along the main avenue had added little stalls to the fronts of their places, with a clerk at the ready and some small trinkets for sale there. He looked over them briefly before carrying on with the others — until Mikoto dragged him along one way to look at a mech shop with gears and parts for sale.

“These look so nice~” she said, practically drooling over the pieces.

“Do you want some? I’m sure we can convince Zidane to pick up the tab,” Kuja said.

“Yes please!” She ended up with some gears and a little pegboard for them to sit on, giving her the chance to play around with new configurations for research purposes. Kuja tucked the receipt next to Estienne’s for Alexandria’s accountant.

Further in, the main square of the city, leading directly to Alexandria Castle by guarded bridge, was painted bright and bold in festive colors, looking much more gaudy and distinct than it ever had before. He smiled and looked over to where the noblewomen were playing Tetra Master in their sequestered nook, to children playing in the street, to the main tent area that had been re-erected following one of Bahamut’s more fearsome blasts.

“Hey, Mr.!” a kid shouted, looking at him. “Wanna play tag?”

“Tag?” What?

“Yeah!”

“I’m afraid I have never played. What is this game?” It had to be a game. A child was asking to play.

“One person is it and tries to tag the others, like this,” another kid said, coming over and papping Kuja’s leg. He stared and nodded. “Then the person who gets tagged has to catch someone and tag them. Anyone who isn’t It has to run away to avoid getting tagged.”

“I see.” Simple enough. Either run toward or run away, depending on who was the hunter. “I’ll play for a bit.”

The kid who tagged him did it again. “You’re it!” They all scattered. Kuja took off after them and went for one of the quicker ones, chasing him down until his hand hit the back of the kid’s shirt.

“You’re it,” he said, turning on a dime and running in the other direction. The other kids stopped and waited for It’s move if they got too far away. Kuja did the same, enjoying the play more than he thought as he ducked out of the way of the kids’ hands and tagged back when he got hit.

After several minutes, he finally stopped. “This was fun, but I’m afraid I have business to attend to. Thank you for inviting me,” Kuja said.

“Awww.”

“Come play with us again sometime,” one of the little girls said. She smiled. Kuja smiled back.

“I’ll be sure to.”

He continued onward toward Alexandria Castle. If he wasn’t intimidating to children, maybe he would be okay?

“Halt!” shouted a rather familiar voice. F. Kuja knew that voice well from when it was shouting at him about Alexandria at the final battle. He turned to see Steiner approaching, decked out in a nice, shiny suit of armor.

“No more rust? And you even painted it,” Kuja said, admiring the color. It was green and white, emblazoned with Alexandria’s seal. “Quite fetching.”

“Enough of your silver tongue, devil,” Steiner said, furrowing his brow more than it already was. Kuja slid behind Amarant.

“We’re here to visit Zidane,” Amarant said. “Figured he should know his brother came back from the dead.”

“Unfortunate that he did. Zidane is indisposed at the moment,” Steiner said curtly. Mikoto frowned.

“Can you leave a message with him? Let him know his little sister is here,” she replied. Kuja hid his face for a moment as Steiner glared at him, trying to keep the grin on his face from being seen. Where had his sister picked up her skill in subtlety? To remind him so obliquely of whom he was refusing~ It made Kuja a certain kind of proud.

“Of course.” Steiner sent a knight off to tell Zidane, then had them escorted inside. He pulled Amarant aside for a moment. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

“Naturally,” Amarant said, nodding.

The inside of the castle was in good shape. There were a few things still being rebuilt. Evidently, things had been focused on the town itself, instead of the royal side of things. It was an admirable thing, Kuja supposed, putting the lives and comfort of the people ahead of herself. Servants were scurrying about to finish their chores before moving to the next ones. Guards were watching carefully over anyone and everyone around. There were a number of uniforms among them, denoting positions easily in ways Kuja was unfamiliar with.

They entered the main hallway, then went up the stairs. Kuja followed Mikoto along, knowing the castle well from his time spent here before. As they turned the corners to the second floor, his heart started beating again. Mikoto held onto his arm like before and looked up at him. He nodded and calmed himself down a bit.

“Almost to the throne. Garnet is usually there,” Mikoto said quietly. They saw the knight from before pass them, just as Zidane…

Kuja stopped and stared at him, unsure of how to proceed at this point. Zidane paused, too, unsure of how to go forward.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

Zidane took a step forward. Kuja took a step back. Mikoto tried to keep him still. Amarant moved to block him and turned Kuja round to face Zidane, then pushed him forward until they were face to face. On the way, Kuja’s old skill with covering his insecurities came into play. He left Amarant’s hold as Mikoto got the group moving with a quick word toward the throne.

Garnet turned to see him as he came around into view.

"I'm back," Kuja said, walking with arrogance like he had before. "I hope it's not too troublesome for you.”

He cursed himself mentally for being so rude. Even if he were upset, being so uncouth would get him no sympathy, and, unlike before, he had a feeling it would be better if Garnet took pity on him.

Garnet, being the true Queen she was, smiled and nodded her head. "Zidane told me about that final conversation. I can tell you're changing."

Changing? Him? Yeah, he was. He might have resented that before, since he was a superior immortal being to the ever-changing mortals of this world, but now, he could embrace it happily.

“So what brings you to Alexandria?” she asked, seeing that Zidane was in shock at seeing a walking, talking, and very much alive Kuja.

“Mikoto thought it would be a good idea for me to come. I… I have a lot to make up for, more than I could ever hope to,” he said, running a hand through his hair nervously. “It seems the rebuilding is taken care of across the countries.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, watching him. He was so different from the Kuja she had known. Where before, his little smile had never left his face, his arrogance had coated him and the air around him in an impenetrable shield, now he was… vulnerable.

Kuja thought for a bit. “There must still be monsters in the lower regions affected by the Mist. I could take care of them, make them less of an issue. Even if society takes to the skies, it would be prudent to make things safe.”

Garnet hummed. Kuja was accompanied by Amarant, by Mikoto. That meant they had the same worries she did. Still, if there were guardians watching him… She nodded. “Freya is planning to do much the same with Sir Fratley soon. I’ll send you her way in a week.”

A _week?_ Staying in this place where everyone detested him for _an entire week!?_

Hell no.

“I was planning to leave tomorrow. I wanted to make sure you knew I was out there before I was found by someone else and hunted for sport, regardless of how deserving I am of such treatment.” Kuja’s face was haughty right up until the last. It seemed that, with these new emotions swirling about, his usual pokerface was falling apart. Garnet’s eyes flickered with understanding when she saw the sculpted visage fall.

“You should stay longer than that,” she said.

“If I do, I’m afraid I’ll distract Mikoto and keep her here. She just had a breakthrough with her machinery when I came to her doorstep. I would prefer not to take her from another.”

“Don’t worry about me, Frére. I’ll be fine,” Mikoto said. Kuja shot her a look, only to be met by her grin. Little squit.

“You shouldn’t be unaccompanied,” he said, hoping she would let him come back to the Black Mage Village with her.

“I’ll take her back,” Amarant said, not actually planning to take her back. Kuja sighed and nodded.

“Good. Thank you,” he said. Why were they ganging up on him!? Was this part of his divine punishment? Probably.

Garnet smiled. “One week? Please?”

One week? “Three days,” Kuja said. It didn’t seem like he was going to fight his way out of staying in this place, anyway.

“Three days,” he said. She nodded and prepared a missive for Freya, sent away right after it was ready.

“In the meantime, I’ll have a room prepared for you. It’s nearly time for lunch. Join us.” Garnet stood. Beatrix slid out of the shadows and moved behind her, separating Garnet from the rest of the group, from Kuja. The knight shot a glare over her shoulder, hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Understandable. He looked at her and put up his hands in surrender. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was take a wrecking ball to their tidy little friend group.

Zidane hung back until they were on their way to the dining rooms. When they arrived, Kuja was seated some distance from Garnet, Zidane at her side, completely separating him from them. Steiner and Beatrix joined them for the meal, making a company of 8. He was wedged between Steiner and Amarant. Lovely.

The conversation flowed nicely. He stayed out of it for the most part, only laughing quietly here and there, making small noises as one does.

“So, Kuja, how did you return to life?” Garnet asked. Kuja paused.

“Ah. I couldn’t say for sure. I was severely out of it when I found myself alive.” He took a small bite of his chicken. “I remember being in the roots, then the air. Next thing I knew, my program was before me and I was adjusting it. After that, I awoke in Conde Petie.”

“Conde Petie?” Steiner asked.

“Yes, and I was there for some days before going to the Black Mage Village and meeting Mikoto.”

Mikoto smiled at him, then at Zidane hopefully. Zidane smiled back and looked to Kuja, faltering and looking away a moment after. What did Kuja expect? Glowing praise? Happiness? That his little brother was willing to look at him at all was a miracle in and of itself.

“We thought you were lost to the roots,” Garnet said.

“As did I,” Kuja said, looking away from her. The conversation moved on and stayed light as he choked down his food, not terribly hungry.

A servant showed the guests to their rooms. Mikoto had her own. Amarant and Lani were sharing a suite. Kuja’s was at the middle of the hallway. He settled onto the bed and shucked off the clothes that Estienne had made him, instead putting on his now properly fitted mage clothing. From there, he left through the window and floated up to the roof. It was nice to be able to be in the cold of the night, under the stars, under the moons. Red and blue, Terra and Gaia, Kuja and—

Zidane figured his brother might be up there. A brief conversation with Mikoto in which she confessed to Kuja’s... _issues..._ had him going up toward the roof where the broken blade of Alexandria’s Sword stood tall despite everything that had transpired. Sure enough, he found silvery white hair glowing in the moonlight.

“Kuja?” he said quietly. Kuja started and turned to face him, eyes wide and a little puffy. “Never thought you’d be the type to cry.”

“Nor did I,” Kuja said, matching the quietness in tone. He wiped his eyes with his gloves and took a deep breath to calm himself. It was ineffective. Zidane sat next to him.

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you. Zidane–“

“Kuja–“ They both stopped and looked at each other.

“Your home. You go first,” Kuja said, waving him on.

“Sorry for being cold earlier. I didn’t know how to react to you being back. Uh… Aw, man, this went so much smoother in my head!” He gripped at his hair and cried out. Kuja watched him, then laughed.

“You? Planning a line? I thought you went with the flow and let the words come as they did all this time. I can’t believe you’re the one who defeated me.”

“Hey, I plan lots of stuff! Like the strategy we used to bring you down.”

“And all this time, I thought it was the work of our dear captain of the guard. He always seemed an eager buffoon,” Kuja said, then bit his lip. “I shouldn’t insult your friend.”

“It’s alright. Rusty is really smart, but way too serious all the time,” Zidane said. He smiled, then fell silent. Kuja twiddled his thumbs and let his legs dangle over the edge.

“I went to see Vivi’s statue before leaving. I… I asked him for help. To change. To have compassion and understanding for the people around me, like he always did. His name translates roughly to _live as a bird._ I had said it ironically once on his cargo shipment before it left for the ship itself. How could they, as dolls? Perhaps saying so gave him the spark he needed to truly do so.”

“He felt bad for you at the end and said he understood your wish to be able to live your life as you pleased,” Zidane said. He looked up at the stars on high. Kuja glanced over at him and nodded.

“Mikoto said much the same thing.”

“You really asked him for that?”

“I did.”

Zidane regarded Kuja a moment, then smiled and punched him on the shoulder.

“What was that for?” Kuja asked, looking at him in confusion.

“It’s a bro thing, I think. Marcus always said it was. He’d shoulder punch us all. Even if we were just thieves back then, it was nice to have a close connection with the guys growing up. I guess I could thank you for that. If you hadn’t taken me to Lindblum, my life would be a lot worse than it is.”

“You live in a castle on the arm of a glorious queen, your friends care deeply for you, your every need is met.” Kuja smiled and looked upon the town far below, the people there who would be carousing late into the night and wandering down streets drunk together, staggering home as best they could remember the way.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, huh? You… You didn’t really get that, did you? You lived in a castle, sure, and the Desert Palace, and a mansion, but you never really had friends.”

Kuja nodded. It was the one thing he had realized he was truly missing at the end. Souls are little more than the wheel on a ship without connections to others, a bulb in the earth that wouldn’t bloom without the sunlight brought along by others, a sheep lost in the storm without the flock to keep it safe. In order to have truly grown as a person, for all three of them to grow as people, they needed connections to other living beings, didn’t they?

“I didn’t. I was trained in magic and perfected it easily in a month under Garland’s harsh tutelage. Did you know, I killed Lani’s mother? It wasn’t even by _Invincible_ as the others. I had gone down to pick off survivors for a little fun, and she surprised me with her black magic. Lani was just a child back then.”

Zidane watched him and blinked, then looked up again. “I figured as much. She mentioned the eye in the sky, and I did the math to figure out it was you who did it.”

“As I did to the Summoner Village.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you want me to go with you to Freya?” Zidane asked. Kuja thought it over for a bit, closed his eyes, shook his head.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It won’t be any trouble! Besides, Mikoto got to bond with you. I wanna do the same.”

“And how exactly do you propose we bond?” Kuja asked, raising an eyebrow. Zidane grinned and stood up. He held his hand out to Kuja to do the same, his grin growing wider when Kuja took his hand and stood next to him.

It had been kind of difficult to understand before that moment how tall Kuja really was. Zidane had been on the ground, in front of a sitting Kuja, or some distance away from his larger trance form. As it turned out, Kuja was _really fucking tall._ The elder genome had at least a foot on Zidane, if not more.

“Something wrong, Shrimp?” Kuja asked, smirking. Zidane scrunched his mouth in a pout, then shook his head and chuckled.

“No wonder I kicked your ass. I was able to reach all your weak points.” He poked Kuja’s exposed solar plexus. Kuja winced a bit and narrowed his eyes.

“What is this bonding you’ve come up with?”

“A true ritual between men: peeing off a cliff,” Zidane said with the most serious expression on his face. Kuja burst out laughing.

“Your face! You look so serious about this!”

“I am serious. I’m also an experienced actor~” he said, gloating. Kuja snorted.

“For what group? Some backalley gig?”

“Tantalus Theatre Troupe in Lindblum.”

“No.” He remembered. He remembered that damned play in which Zidane had made his professional debut. He remembered seeing him and laughing at the fact that his monkey brother had become a performer a mere step above the street. It had seemed so fitting for him.

“Yep!” Zidane undid his pants. Kuja stared for a moment before shuffling his straps down to do the same.

“I cannot believe you actually… Wait. But aren’t you a thief?”

“Yeah, I am. Tantalus used to use theater to distract people from the thefts we did.”

“That night at the auction house, then, when you stole some of the items and money and Amarant was framed.” By him. “That was the same night you were putting on a production of _Wishing Upon A Star,_ is it not?”

“You got it! I feel really bad for Amarant for that,” Zidane said, letting loose. Kuja did the same, incredibly confused about this.

“Don’t. I’m sure he blames you not for what transpired at that time.”

“You think so?”

“I do, because I told him that it was me who ultimately got him framed for the crime. While we could have done an investigation and found him innocent, I wanted to spread some chaos in his life and condemned him.”

“Dude. That’s evil.”

“It is. It’s something which I must make up for — though, according to him, saving me from death by pondwater has done something for him. And he wouldn’t have met Lani. They seem quite taken with one another.”

“Aren’t they just? It’s so cute to see them together.”

Once they finished up, Zidane put his hand on Kuja’s shoulder and went down with him to bed, dropping Kuja off in his room.

“Sleep well, Kuja,” he said.

“You, too. Make sure you don’t fall to pieces on me.”

Zidane gaped like a fish at that, then chuckled to cover his worry and closed the door. Kuja removed his coat and came across two papers, then balked.

“I’ll remind myself to drop those off in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keysmash if youre freaking out sdjhkfsfs
> 
> find me on tumblr if youd like to ask questions~


	9. Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja is left alone in the night once again, discovers something unfortunate, and is forced to make a promise that could make or break him.

He didn’t sleep that night. Kuja lay in his bed, closed his eyes, found the pillow too warm and turned it over, too cold and waited, then it was too warm again. His tail lashed about in contempt. He tried shucking his bedclothes off, then put them back on, curled up, stretched out, pushed his covers off and put them back on. He tried a foot out, then the other, then pulled the blanket across just his chest, then across just his legs, trying all manner of combinations of on and off, even trying it with just his tail in or out. Sleep stalwartly refused him. Finally, he had to give up, and went to the balcony to try the cool night air.

Standing there under the moons, leaning against the thick railing, he was able to breathe a bit. The moons were getting somewhat close to uniting again, weren’t they? Just as they had some time ago when Alexander had made his first appearance in 500 years. Perhaps something truly incredible would happen the next time. Who knew?

What could he even do? His magic… It had gotten him into so much trouble. And his trance, his stolen trance, it had nearly — no, that was some form of running away, he figured, to tack things onto his trance. _Kuja_ had been the one to nearly destroy the world. He had stolen the lives of others, stolen their power, used their resentful energy to fuel himself. It would have been the end of all things across all worlds. He had wanted so much to destroy everything Garland protected, everything the Terrans had touched.

“I still do,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head. His unkempt nails, so like claws in their long neglect, tore at the air as he curled his fingers. How nice it would be to destroy the last remnants of Terran technology, to break down Oeilvert, to reduce the Desert Palace to rubble. His magic could do it, couldn’t it? It had before. He could easily destroy that old inverting castle.

Couldn’t he?

But he didn’t feel it like he once had. His magic felt weaker, and he felt weaker for it. The cure spell he had cast before had taken more energy from him than he had thought it would. Out of curiosity, Kuja decided to try a fire spell into the sky.

“ **Fire**!” It went well. “ **Fira**!” Still well, but he did feel it. He hadn’t felt the Ultima spell that he had cast in trance.

“ **Firaga**!” Nothing. Nothing?

“ **Firaga**!” No, that couldn’t be right.

“ **Firaga**!” There was no way that he had lost his ability to do magic. Kuja gripped the railing and looked up to the mocking twin moons. He gritted his teeth and glared at them.

“ **FIRAGA**!” He launched the spell. It came out, but it was quicker and less powerful than normal. His breath hitched and quickened, chest heaving from the restraint of his emotion until he couldn’t restrain it any longer. Kuja fell to his knees and gripped the poles of the rail. A scream rose in his throat and stopped. He was outside. He had already attracted more than enough attention with the spells and yelling.

Inside, there were pillows. He could scream into those without restrain. But when he tried, it wouldn’t come. Instead, he found sleep as his body curled in on itself, evidently exhausted by its attempts. It didn’t last long, only an hour when he returned to the balcony. This time, he had brought the pillow with him.

Reprieve didn’t come. It refused him now that he wanted it. This, too, was punishment for what he had done, for the slaughter of tens of thousands, for the deaths of families. How could he dare to try to bond with his own brother when Lani’s mother was gone? When Garnet’s family, her _mother_ , were stolen by him? How could he dare to face either of them, knowing what he had done to them? It was audacious beyond belief, a staggering blow to them, another strike on the head. Here he was, and where were their families?

_Oh, they’re gone. Didn’t you know? I killed them, and here I am._ Kuja shook his head. It should have been Vivi, it should have been Brahne, it should have been that woman with the blazing eyes. It…

He stepped onto the balcony, looked over the edge of the railing, climbed onto it, and Mikoto’s scared and hurt look seared his vision. Kuja breathed out and stepped down on the balcony again, then went inside and decided to find the library. Maybe he could engross himself in one of Lord Avon’s plays.

Lord Avon’s works were buried in the back of the library among other, lesser playwrights. He picked out _I Want To Be Your Canary_ and smiled at its well-worn pages. Out of curiosity, he leaned in. It smelled ever so faintly of Garnet’s preferred perfume. Figures. He knew she was as much a fan of the play as he was.

He sat down with it on a couch and read through, from Marcus’s vow to kill King Leo to the betrayal of one of his friends and the ensuing fight. At the end…

Cornelia lay dying, spoke of her love to Marcus, and suddenly his mind offered an alternate reality, one in which he had Zidane dying at his feet, with Garland dead. And in it, Zidane was smiling sadly, told him that he felt there was something in Kuja that had never wanted to be the Angel of Death.

He slammed the play closed and cursed Zidane out. Of course he had wanted to be the Angel of Death! Garland knew as well as he did that Kuja was far too headstrong to be trapped in a box! If he had wanted to be someone else, he would have been!

Hadn’t he tried to be? When he became King, when he had taken Treno by storm and settled into the top of its status quo? Hadn’t he tried to be the ever aloof aristocrat?

What was he? What was Kuja? No longer the Angel of Death, no longer the powerful magician who got wiped out by a simple fire spell. The play fell from his lap, but he found himself without the strength to pick it up. His body flopped over the side of the couch, trapping him within it. Kuja stared blankly and tried to get his body to cooperate, but it wouldn’t be moved. He couldn’t even get it to blink.

He felt sickened by the castle, by the décor, by his own life. Pretty things, made pretty for someone else’s use. How disgusting. Tears pricked at his eyes, just enough movement to release his body from its imprisonment. Kuja grabbed a pillow and cried into it, panicky and screaming. He stopped shortly after. He hyperventilated. He couldn’t calm down, tried to swallow, tried to breathe, but he was fully at the mercy of his emotions and couldn’t stop.

This sucked. Was this what it was like to have emotions from childhood? He didn’t like it. It hurt. He felt like he was losing himself. His hands gripped his hair. _He_ gripped his hair and tugged hard, hard as he could, came away with some strands. They were silvery, beautiful. He was undeserving of them. He gripped his hair again, bit his lip. When he did, he was able to focus his breathing. He could snap his body away from losing control. He could at least regain himself.

He went back to his room, not wanting to risk another episode like that because of another poor choice in reading material. _I Want To Be Your Canary_ was left abandoned on the table beside the couch.

On the way through the halls to the guest rooms, Kuja encountered Garnet. She had her brows furrowed, evidently thinking through something. He wondered if she had been thinking about him, then wondered if any of the thoughts were remotely positive. Probably not.

“You sounded angry earlier,” she said, arms crossed. “I didn’t know where you went.”

“I went to read for a bit to calm down,” he said, moving to go past her. She blocked him.

“Did it work?”

“… No. It made things worse.”

“Why were you casting spells?”  
  
“I wanted to make sure I still could. I…” Kuja swallowed thickly. Garnet raised an eyebrow. “It has become difficult to cast -ra spells, it seems. Firaga is out of reach except in an emotional burst. Fira is taxing.” He tried to say more, wanted to say more, didn’t know what else to say. Instead, he just looked to her imploringly.

“It must be frightening to have lost your power,” Garnet said. “Come with me to the kitchen. Let’s get some tea.”

“It’s late, Queen Garnet. You need rest.”

“Nonsense. I can rest tomorrow and leave affairs in Zidane’s hands.”

“In _his_ hands?” Had Zidane really become so responsible? “Are you sure?”

“He has the heart of a ruler. With Steiner and Beatrix helping to translate, anything he’s given as a task will be completed easily,” Garnet said confidently.

“He doesn’t need a reason to help people. It was nice to die with him close by. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted someone nearby until I was at the end of my life.”

“I hadn’t realized how much I wanted him nearby until he walked back into my life,” Garnet replied, chuckling. “I thought I had moved on, but…”

“How did he come back into your life, anyway?” Kuja asked.

“He played Marcus in a production of _I Want To Be Your Canary_ and stayed cloaked the whole time. Then he threw it off at the end and…” She laughed and went down the stairs. Kuja raised an eyebrow, curious now. “Well, I ran down through the castle and out to him, pushed my way through the crowd, and threw myself at him. It’s a miracle we recovered my crown and shard of Alexander.”

“Recovered?” Such an important item, not to mention the crown!?

“They fell off as I was running.” Now she was smiling nostalgically.

“When was that?” he asked, still a bit confused on the precise times.

“I returned home on March 17th __. That was the day you died and Zidane disappeared. He returned on my birthday the next year, January 15 th.”  
  
“What time is it now?”

“June 10th, 1801,” she said.

“That late, hm?” Huh. He had missed his birthday somewhere in there. Twice.

“It is,” she said.

Kuja followed to the kitchen and sat as she made tea.

“It was stressful for me. My mother died, Alexandria was in shambles. I didn’t know what to do and I was in such distress that I was unable to speak.”

“I do remember that. I was rather annoyed at the time that the little canary couldn’t sing. I should never had made light of what you went through. Of what I put you through.” Kuja looked away from her in shame. Garnet regarded him.

“Mikoto was right. You’ve changed,” Garnet said. “The Kuja I once knew would have scoffed at shame. He’d have flicked his hair and given a haughty laugh. ‘What a foolish emotion! These weak people of Gaia! Focused so much on being sad and clinging to each other like little mice!’” She mimicked him. Kuja snorted and sighed.

“I was a pretentious ass back then. Had I not been such a fool, myself, things would have been different,” Kuja said. Garnet poured the tea for him, and he realized how tightly she was holding it. He put his hand on hers and took the pot, poured tea for her and himself.

“You hate that I’m here,” he said.

“Why is it you? Why couldn’t it be my mother!?” she demanded, gripping the counter tightly. Kuja fell to his knees. He pressed his forehead to the ground and shook his head.

“If I could bring her back to you, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

Garnet bit her lip and cried, falling to her knees. She tried to choke off the sobs so she didn’t embarrass herself, but it was no use. She couldn’t stop them and couldn’t stop her tears.

Kuja looked up from the floor to see her bawling in front of him. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. What does one do when someone has an emotional crisis!?

“Dagger?” Zidane asked, coming in. He slid down to her and pulled her close. “Kuja, what happened?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know.” Kuja backed away. He had upset her. She was devastated now and it was because of him.

“Kuja,” she said, calming down a bit. He stopped in his shuffling.

“Kuja. She regretted it at the end, everything she did. My mother told me that she led Alexandria down the path of ruin because of her greed. And you nearly destroyed the world because of your fear. I’m putting you under an order.”

“Anything.”

“Live well and live long for the people who couldn’t do so because of you. Let go of your fear, and _live._ ” She stared him down with those dark eyes of hers. Kuja swallowed and nodded, unable to do anything else.

“I will. I need to rectify what I have wrought in any way I can. Had I come to sooner, I could have helped to rebuild these cities…”

“You’ll go to the others and assist them in any way they ask, to all of my friends, starting with Freya,” Garnet said. “I’m sure they’ll find ways to put you to use.”

_Use_. Kuja’s eyes lit up unintentionally. Zidane grinned at him and nodded.

“We’re making you useful to this world.”

He could have cried. He nearly did and kept himself together. “Thank you, Queen Garnet. But… Why are you having mercy on me? I ought to be hanged.”

“I know. But we’re moving past violence and death. There has been too much of it,” she said, shaking her head. “Besides, you’re under orders to live life for those lost.”

“Of course. I shall do my best.” As soon as he could figure out how to go about that. Starting her way would be useful as a start.

They departed from the kitchen. Kuja went off his own way to his room, deciding to float through the air to his balcony and to the still-open door. He crawled into bed and found something in it.

“What the–“ With a wave of his hand, Kuja had a ball of light that shone on Mikoto, of all things. She blinked and looked up at him, then dragged him down and snuggled on him.

“Where’d you go?” she asked.

“Why is everyone awake, is a better question,” Kuja said. “I went for a stroll and met Garnet. She’s ordered me to live for those who cannot.”

“That’s good to hear. Can you sing me to sleep?”

“Of course.” He sang to her again, calming them both down considerably. It seemed that he had made the right choice in asking her to save the others so long ago. She was responsible to a fault. As her breathing deepened, he started falling asleep.

They were found that way in the morning by Zidane, who had come to get Kuja for breakfast and make sure he didn’t run off.

“Aww,” he cooed, looking at them. Mikoto’s tail was tapping by her face. Kuja was curled up with his own tail flicking about at random. The sight was so adorable, Zidane was tempted to find the royal painter and try to get it sketched for painting later. Unfortunately for him, Kuja awoke and glared at him, though the glare softened a moment after.

“Zidane. What are you doing in my room?” Even if he was a rather unwelcome guest, he could at least get a room without disturbance, right? Without his siblings walking in whenever they pleased? It rankled Kuja to consider Zidane a brother, but with Mikoto there, it was the quickest category.

That was the reason. There were certainly no fuzzy warm feelings surrounding it, especially not so soon after cursing him out.

“I’m here to get you for breakfast!” Zidane said. Mikoto blinked awake and looked up.

“Food?”

“Food.”

She got up and hopped off to her own room to change for the day.

“We’ve got some new clothes for you,” Zidane said, handing Kuja some of the old things he had kept around the castle for his visits.

“Nice try. I recognize these,” he said, taking a set. Somehow, Zidane had managed to pick up 3 outfits and got them mixed up with one another. It took a minute to re-sort them into their proper groups. One was most similar to his old outfit, a mere color inversion with purple skirt and white jacket.

“I thought you would. We didn’t know what to do with them, so they’ve been in the attic.”

“In the attic? Which portion?” Perhaps he could reclaim them, since his clothing in the Desert Palace was officially inaccessible.

“Uhh… North? I didn’t ask.” Zidane rubbed his head and chuckled, then gave Kuja some privacy by moving to the other side of the room and turning around.

Brothers do jabs, right? Nice friendly jabs? Maybe he could manage it without causing an upset. “What’s the matter? We spent last night peeing off the side of the castle and possibly onto some guard, and now you’ve become polite?”

“I figured your delicate sensibilities would be back in the daylight,” Zidane said, rolling his eyes, even if Kuja couldn’t see it. Kuja scoffed.

“As if they’d be turned on or off by the sun rising. I will always best you, little bother,” Kuja said.

“Bother?” Zidane turned around as Kuja got his skirt into place.

“Naturally.” He slipped the jacket on and straightened it, checked himself in the mirror, applied his red wings.

“You get mean in the daytime,” Zidane said chidingly. He chuckled. Kuja raised an eyebrow and flicked his hair.

“I do try to be nice now. Look at me, refraining from commenting on your sad little thing,” he said, waving a hand in the general direction of Zidane, whose jaw dropped.

“At least I didn’t look at yours!”

“With quite some work. Don’t think I didn’t notice you comparing,” Kuja said, laughing haughtily. “To breakfast!”

Zidane followed him and tried to come up with a witty retort. “I thought it was low class to comment on that sort of thing.”

“I figured you’d not understand any other insult I could come up with.”

“You underestimate me, just like in Oeilvert,” Zidane said, strutting along.

“And you still didn’t realize I was planning anything. I’m sure the others told you I planned to kill them anyway.”

“Yeah, they did. Your word is kind of untrustworthy, huh?”

“Should I be honest from now on?” Despite his highbrow tone, the concern on Kuja’s face belied his honesty. Zidane nodded in response.

“Yeah. Honesty is the best policy, right?”

“I thought the best policy was not to need a reason to help people,” Kuja said, smirking over his shoulder. Zidane laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“You got it! And part of that is being honest.”

“I see.” Kuja hummed. “Honesty. Kindness, too, I suppose.”

“That’s part of it. Don’t forget humility.”

“Humility? How could I possibly forget it? I’m simply the humblest man in the world,” Kuja said with a flourishing bow. Zidane laughed loudly. It surprised Kuja how much he liked the sound, much as he liked Mikoto’s. It felt… good. Good to make people laugh. It gave him a warmth inside that he liked.

“Help people.” Must he always be so kind? Perhaps he could leave it to Zidane one day or put his own spin on it.

“Mhm!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments appreciated, kudos appreciated~ hit me up @scriberat on tumblr. wonder of wonders, i managed to forget to mention which account is mine there sjdkfsjhdfsk


	10. Waltz of the Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja and Beatrix spend some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: let's try to name all the chapters after emotions  
> also me: waltz of the flowers is an emotion

They made it to the dining hall. Kuja was trapped between Steiner and Beatrix once again. This time, he tried to make some polite conversation, at least asking how their sleep was. Steiner seemed unwilling to answer at first. Beatrix gave him a tight smile.

“Not so easily, I’m afraid,” she said, staring at him pointedly. Kuja nodded and turned away pale, only to feel Steiner staring him down. Looking that way, he found the man’s sharp eyes boring into him.

“I slept with one eye open and caught the sight of fire coming from your room,” he said.

“Ah. I was… distraught.” Kuja put some oatmeal into his mouth.

“Don’t burn this castle down.”

“I will not. You have my word.”

Steiner’s glare sharpened more.

“Run me through if I do.”

“Be sure to stand still for me,” Steiner said. Kuja nodded and wiped his mouth.

After that somewhat nervewracking breakfast, Kuja went to the gardens within the castle walls and sat on the grass to recover from it. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, let the sun shine on his face. It was warm that morning, heralding a hot day to come. There was a slight breeze collecting the pollens and scents from all the blooms and blowing them across the green blades of the grasses and the leaves of the bushes, bringing everything into a dance, a waltz of the flowers.

“If I had paper, I would write that down,” Kuja said quietly, opening his eyes as his nose was filled with the scents.

“Write what down?” Beatrix asked, watching him. Kuja looked at her and that eye of hers. She had lost it in war, he knew. He wondered if it was one he had caused.

“A rather lovely description referencing another work of an old composer, _The Waltz of the Flowers._ It’s a rather upbeat piece that sounds like a garden awakening in the dawn to my ears. The way the wind is moving across the flowers reminded me of it.”

Beatrix regarded him coldly. “Always a poet.”

“Of course, Rose of May,” Kuja said, looking at her. “I have given up all else that I have, at least allow me this.”

“Have you?”

“I have. Much as Queen Brahne had, I regret everything that I did at the end of it all, when it was too late to do anything for anyone,” Kuja said. He closed his eyes again and breathed in the air. There was more to that song, a section that sounded almost sad and trepid. Beatrix stayed where she was.

“Why are you here?” Kuja asked.

“I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“On Garnet’s orders?”

“No. I have the day off.”

“You ought to spend it bothering that knight of yours.”

“That would distract us both and give you the perfect opportunity.”

“To do what!?” Kuja snapped. He recollected himself. “I’ve no intention of harming anyone.”

“And you didn’t start a war, either. It was my queen’s wish, right?” Beatrix hissed. Kuja gulped. She had a point, he had said that, hadn’t he?

“I lied then. She would have been content enough to wallow and waste away after her husband’s death. I convinced her to give in to greed and hatred, told her to take revenge for the slaughter that had taken her husband. It still took time. The plan only began in 1799, after all, after her grieving was more or less over. And I would be lying if I said I hadn’t taken advantage of the fallout of my own actions. It was a war I caused that led to her husband’s death on the battlefield,” Kuja said.

Beatrix whipped out her sword to his neck. “It’s all your fault and you should have stayed dead.”

“I am well aware. I have already attempted to die, but, as it turns out, doing so would hurt Mikoto, and I wish not to cause more pain,” Kuja said, pushing the sword gently with his finger to see if it would give. It did, and Beatrix sheathed it with a flourish that came close to his face and took a couple hairs off.

“See to it that you don’t.” She didn’t move, just watched him. Kuja went to the library. Beatrix followed. He read for awhile amongst the stacks. Her eye never left him. At one point, Kuja decided to have a little fun and wove himself into the stacks, walking quickly through the shelves. Beatrix tried to keep up, but she soon lost him. In a panic, she glanced around and tried to track him down. A tap came to her shoulder and Beatrix whipped around.

“Tag. You’re it,” Kuja said, chuckling.

“Where did you learn games? I thought you were born an adult?” Beatrix said, wary. Kuja pouted.

“I learned just yesterday from some children in the square. We had a good time playing before I came here.”

She backed off a pace from him and furrowed her brows. “Corrupting children now?”

“Hardly.” He also backed off a pace with his hands up in surrender. “Shall I tell you how I’ve been changing?”

“Mikoto has regaled me with a few tales. I would prefer to see it, myself.”

“Dear Rose of May, you’ve become so cold and embittered.” That was his fault, too. She had always been stalwart, but warm. Now she was as ice, though that had hardly changed between them. Needed to see it…

Beatrix narrowed her eyes. Kuja sighed.

“Beatrix. She should be the one here. I ought to have remained dead. That isn’t how it turned out. Queen Garnet put me under orders last night to live my life to the fullest in honor of those who died. I believe many of your soldiers were among them. Between Bahamut and Alexandria…”

Struck a nerve. Beatrix’s eye flashed in warning.

“Do you know if there’s a book on necromancy? Perhaps I can raise them once more,” Kuja said.

“Don’t joke like that.”

“Sorry. I do wish it, that I could find a way to reverse things, bring back the lives lost and let Terra fall away so Gaia was never harmed.” Doing that, like his plan to destroy the Origin Crystal, would solve his problems.

“So do I.”

Kuja nodded and wandered off. Beatrix tailed him. He went to the accountants and dropped off the receipts to be paid, went along through the castle halls, nodding to the guards.

“Are you enjoying being my shadow? Am I allowed to go outside if I stay on your leash?” Kuja asked.

Beatrix raised an eyebrow. “And what would you do outside?”  
  
“Perhaps I’ll play with the children some more. Maybe hide and seek this time. That’s something children enjoy, right?” He chuckled. “I’ll find hiding spots big enough for both of us so you can do something aside from work and worry on your day off.”

Kuja headed for the castle gate, wondering if Beatrix would really let him go. Beatrix followed on his heels until he finally held his arm up for her to take. She refused it and simply stayed close to him.

“So cold,” he chided. Then he grew more somber. “Whatever happened to the warmhearted general who was kind to all?”

“You happened.”

That hurt. Kuja’s heart physically ached from that. He had once loathed how the General had always cared so for her soldiers. Now, to know he had a part to play in making her less so…

“I’m sorry. Deeply so. I had once thought you weak-willed because of your love for your people. That love is what makes you strong, isn’t it?” He looked at her. She looked at him for awhile, then nodded.

“I like to think so.”

“You helped defeat my Nova and Silver dragons. You turned against your own Queen and showed fealty to Alexandria itself because you know where your loyalties lie. That is a strength I admire.”

“And where do your loyalties lie?” Beatrix asked as they reached the gate. Kuja stopped.

“Here is where my family is. I never knew what family meant until I met Mikoto. Zidane… has odd ideas regarding bonding. I could consider myself loyal to them, but I am also loyal to myself.” But how loyal could he be to himself? After everything that he had done, he deserved none, not even to himself.

“To yourself?” Beatrix asked, her eye narrowing.

Kuja stood before her. “I have no loyalties, not to anyone, not even myself. But how could I betray myself with such a thought? H—“ He swallowed and looked at Beatrix. “What do I do? I’ve never felt so lost.”

“I don’t know. Why do you call me Rose of May?” Beatrix asked. “I’ve been meaning to ask for some time.”

“Ah.” Kuja blinked and breathed to collect himself. “Beautiful, poised, highly valued, with a sting on those who would cut you down, and yet so merciful as not to kill without reason.”

“An insult, once upon a time? What of Elephant Lady?”

“When did you hear me say that? And you have to admit, she was an elephant on two legs.”

“Don’t disrespect the queen!” Beatrix pointed her sword at him and laughed a little. “But yes, I suppose she was. You referred to Garnet as Canary. She told me that.”

“In reference to the play and her unexpected debut onstage.”

“I had forgotten you came by to watch it.”

“Yes, though I was not allowed in the throne box.” Kuja pouted a bit.

“Queen Garnet did want to _enjoy_ the play,” Beatrix said, raising her eyebrow. She put her sword away. He relaxed a bit. He hadn’t even realized how he had tensed up.

“Of course. I’ve always put her on edge.” Kuja’s mind ran a mile a minute. “She would have been home and happy with her real mother had I not interfered.”

“That is true,” Beatrix said.

“I feel the need to run so I can process this. Care to join me for a walk about the village?”

“What do you need to process?” she asked, following Kuja as he exited the castle and crossed the courtyard. “You know what you’ve done.”

“Logically, yes. I do have my memories of what I did. However, my heart…” It hurt and it fuzzed and it _did things_ and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he sure did _feel._ “Is it always so confusing to have emotions?”

Beatrix stopped dead in her tracks and furrowed her brow. “What?”

“Is it confusing to have emotions?”

“Shouldn’t you know that already?” She guided him onto the gondola and across the moat as Kuja laughed.

“A bold assumption on your part that I am anything remotely normal. I always valued my uniqueness over all things, but it’s now showing itself to be a curse.” He sighed and shook his head. “That was a part of my issues long before.”

Kuja stopped at the outer gate near the guards, looked at them, then continued onward. He did rather know Alexandria’s streets and soon disappeared into an alleyway.

“You hate me with good reason. You’re the last person to talk to about this. And yet…”

“And yet you know I’m probably not going to judge you more harshly than I already have.”

“That’s correct.”

Beatrix looked around the alley and hummed. It had some boxes, a few barrels, a clean look. “I could kill you here and make it look like an accident.”

“With Zidane asking questions and Mikoto freaking out,” Kuja answered coolly. “Allow me the chance to air my grievances?”

“Fine.”

“I was originally created to kill, the Angel of Death whose work would allow the resurrection of the planet Terra. However, I had one fatal flaw. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad, but my creator wanted the ultimate killing machine.” Kuja ran a hand through his hair. Funny. When he had written this scene in his head, it had been so easy, so dramatic, so…

When he had written it in his head, it was with blame set on others, on Zidane, on Garland. Now he was trying to explain from the other side. How was he meant to do that?

“And because of your fatal flaw, that wasn’t you?” Beatrix asked. She was used to people needing help. You didn’t guard Queen Brahne personally without learning how to calm and coax someone.

“Precisely. I was his perfect being for 7 years, perhaps fewer. He learned of Trance and realized I could never achieve it because I didn’t have the emotional capacity. I was made as an adult. I never had the emotional depth that children are naturally capable of and become capable of controlling.”

Beatrix’s eye narrowed and calculated the information he gave her with the info she had had previously. “Zidane.”

“He is Garland’s perfect vessel. I was scared and jealous when I learned of him and plotted to get rid of him. I didn’t kill him to prove myself a superior being, capable of killing when I wished, but…”

Kuja breathed deeply and looked annoyed.

“He wormed his way into your heart, didn’t he? He does it to all of us.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one. Yes, as far as I can now tell, I did have some issue with not taking pity on him at the time. I suppose he truly did do a number on me with those innocent eyes. Eventually, I conspired to kidnap him, and dump him in a place where Garland would never find him. Lindblum was on the southern side of the Mist Continent, large, filled with people. Even the _Invincible_ could never find him. I dumped him there to die.”

“Despite not killing him yourself?”

“Yes. For my treachery, I was banished from Terra, still to be his little puppet.”

“By ‘his’ you mean Garland?” Beatrix asked. Kuja saw red and slammed his fist against a wall. A flash of lightning burst from it and scarred the wall. When he came back a mere few seconds later, he retracted his fist and backed away from the spot in fear.

“Yes…” Kuja strode off again. Beatrix grabbed his arm before he got far.

“You need to face him,” she said.

“He’s dead.”  
  


“Not out here. In here.” Beatrix pointed to his head and tapped his temple, reaching up to do so. Kuja stared at her, confused once again. Trepidation filled his heart as he realized she meant he had to face his fear. He chuckled.

“In time, Rose of May. In time. For now, allow me to finish my tale?”

“Of course.” They separated a bit.

“After I was thrown out of my home, I plotted to kill Garland. That took significantly longer and resulted in all that happened before.”

“Explain that to me. I’m still _fuzzy_ on the _details_ ,” Beatrix said, staring him down. Kuja nodded and gulped.

“I needed power to take down an automaton which had lived for thousands of years and knew every trick in the book. I thought Bahamut would be perfect, then Alexander instead. He took control of the _Invincible_ and eviscerated Alexander before I could take control. After that, I could no longer pretend to be an ally to him and had to make my move. Eventually, I was able to absorb the thousands of souls held on the _Invincible_ and used Queen Brahne’s soul as the catalyst for my own Trance. To think, after all that, all I really had to do was kick that bastard over the edge.” He laughed and sighed.

“And then?” Beatrix pressed.

“And then I attempted to destroy all life because I learned that mine would be ending when Zidane came of age to be the Angel of Death. Had I not kidnapped him, I would have witnessed the process of his training and emotional guidance. Seeing how Mikoto was relatively emotionless until she met the Black Mages, I wonder how well that would have gone.”

“You tried everything in your power to come out on top and chose the wrong path every time,” Beatrix said.

“My actions directly led to the 8 involved in the party that killed me to want to kill me. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain,” Kuja said. “If I… If I hadn’t lost it upon finding out about my impending death, could I have gone down as a tragic hero?”

“No. You killed far too many people for that.”

Her bluntness caught him by surprise and made him laugh a bit. “You’re right,” Kuja said, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Perhaps I ought to make myself a house in the Evil Forest. It would be appropriate.”

“Would you be able to fulfill your orders?”

“Orders? Ah, to live well for those who cannot. I wouldn’t be able to do that there, no.”

“You have time to think about it,” Beatrix said. She held her hand out. “Shall we return? It may be best for you to have a safe place to rest for awhile.”

“Are you saying this place isn’t safe?” Kuja asked, a playful smirk on his face.

“Not for you,” Beatrix replied, a hand on her sword. He put his hands up in surrender. The two of them continued onward through the streets of town despite her suggestion, Beatrix holding tightly to his arm and reassuring those who freaked out at the sight of him. Kuja noted the children, the women playing cards in their little corner, the people going to and fro like the attempted destruction of Alexandria had never happened.

“They detest me,” he said quietly. “Many had friends who were aboard the fleet?”

“Yes. They resent you heavily for killing so many with Bahamut, for exacting damage on the city, itself.”

“I see.” He couldn’t bring them back. “What was the final toll?”

“Of the 1,400 soldiers we brought with us, all of them died that day. Here in Alexandria, only a few.”

1,400, on top of the few hundreds from every village and town he had decimated at other times. Thousands of lives taken by him. He could see two guards at the gate to the main square, more children, more adults, soul-filled streets. More people had been steering the ship proper. Queen Brahne had been on it. Kuja had stolen so many lives, so many just like these surrounding him. Even in the entrance square, there were people everywhere. He had seen them running for their lives once, and now that he was counting…

He sank to his knees. “I can’t… I can’t.” He shook his head and bent over, pressing his forehead to the tiles. “I—“

“Kuja?” Beatrix looked at him with some concern.

“G…” _Get someone_ , he wanted to say. Who, he wasn’t sure. Mikoto? But she had dealt with enough of this for a lifetime. Zidane? Kuja had already made Garnet cry in front of him more than enough times. It would be too much to put more on him, too. Beatrix knelt down and patted his head awkwardly. He grabbed it and used his telepathy, not wanting to risk his magic not being strong enough. The numbers, the lives, the people who would never again see the blue sky, never pursue their dreams, never make it to the things they wanted.

Beatrix nodded and kept patting him. “War is a difficult thing. You go into it knowing you may never come out, knowing that the people you’re surrounded by may die. It’s a risk we sign up for.”

_You didn’t sign up for a massacre._

“No, we didn’t. Nor did we expect a dragon to fight, either for or against us. The battle was unfair for my soldiers.”

_Your friends._ He curled up more on himself. She nodded again and took her hand away, then dragged him up onto his feet. They ended up at the foot of the statue of General Madalene.

“General Madalene a woman whom I greatly admired growing up,” Beatrix said. “She defended Alexandria with merely 9 soldiers and died too soon. Many of her friends died, and it was her strength and writings that kept me going when I lost my own soldiers.”

Kuja looked up at the imposing figure. She stared down with kind eyes beneath her helmet.

“She is rather like you, isn’t she?”

“I like to think so,” Beatrix said softly. “My lady Madalene… She thankfully never had to question her actions, insofar as I am aware.”

Kuja wasn’t happy to hear it. Beatrix held him up.

“Take heart. Even as warriors, we can still find it within ourselves to live again, despite those we have killed. That was the main point of her writings after the 9th Lindblum War. She was constantly working through the traumas of having killed so many, and of having to do so again. You are lucky. You no longer need to kill,” Beatrix said, smiling.

“Instead I am harnessed with the glorious purpose of righting wrongs that cannot be righted,” Kuja said. He stood and looked up at Madalene’s face once more, then to Beatrix’s. When he looked between them, he could sense the similarities. It had been some time for Madalene to be dead… Yes, he was nearly certain. How funny. He had assumed that none of the old Gaian souls were able to make it back after the Iifa Tree started its work so long ago.

“What is it?” Beatrix asked.

“Do you understand the reincarnation cycle at all?” he asked. She blinked.

“I am somewhat aware of it. Souls are filtered into the crystal and back out.”

“Yes. They are stripped of memories which become food for the crystal, but certain qualities do become engraved upon the souls, making them recognizable across ages as they are used again and again to gain more memories. Looking from her statue, carved with some of those qualities intact upon her face, I can see that you and she are the same. You likely bear her soul. It is no wonder. You also bear her love for her home.”

“I– She– Really?” Beatrix looked up at her face. Kuja nodded.

“There is no mistaking it. She has returned to Alexandria through you.”

“One day, my friends will return, in some form or other.” She had a new certainty to her, a new lightness to her shoulders. Kuja tried not to smile. Just because her friends could come back, didn’t mean they would be friends a second time.

“Perhaps they’ll be squirrels. All living things on this planet have souls, including the plants and animals. Their deaths will pave the way for new plants and animals to arise,” Kuja said, almost as if quoting a book.

“Is that right?”

“Paraphrased for the layman, but that is what I was taught. All genomes are taught about the life cycle of the crystals. It was rather important to our work,” Kuja said. He placed a hand on Madalene’s platform, then realized that the spot he had chosen was blackened from hundreds of hands which had touched it before.

“They say touching it will bring you luck in accomplishing your goal,” Beatrix said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Marginally. Shall we return? I believe we have nearly missed the lunch hour.”  
  


“Let’s.” Beatrix went back with him across the streets of town to the castle proper and went across the moat. She continued tailing him across the courtyard and back inside to his room. Kuja turned to her.

“I doubt your Steiner would be happy with you entering my room. Have a good afternoon, Beatrix. I’m going to see to that _issue_ that I need to face.” And with that, Kuja closed his door before she could reply.


	11. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja and Zidane chat for a bit.

As soon as he had the place to himself, Kuja went to float out the window. He was so not going to spend time thinking about that bastard creator of his.

Crossing the room took little time at all, and opening the window was significantly faster. He stepped onto the sill.

“Hey~” Zidane said, head popping up.

“Wah!” Kuja launched back. “What are you doing there!?”

“I thought you might try to go out the window when I saw you coming back with Beatrix,” Zidane said, still hanging on the sill with a smile hanging on his face. Kuja recollected himself and straightened up, then let out an exasperated sigh.

“Mind if I come in?” Zidane asked, slipping a bit. He scrambled for better purchase. Kuja leaned over him, the old smirk on his face. Ah, the fear on Zidane’s face was lovely to see.

“Let you in? Oh, dear brother. It would be so easy to throw you off. You’re already slipping. A few tears and they may just believe it really was an accident,” Kuja said, his voice silky. Zidane’s face fell as he shrank away. His hand slipped.

He’ll never forget the look on Kuja’s face, the terror and panic when he started slipping. He’ll never forget the hand gripping his arm tightly, the other that grasped his own in desperation. He’ll never forget the sensation of knowing his brother was there to save him. It was familiar, somehow.

Kuja tugged him up and over the sill, then tumbled onto the floor with Zidane flopped on top of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks. Um…” How awkward would it be to ask about this now?

“What is it?” Kuja asked, separating himself by pushing Zidane to the side. There was certainly something to think about now, given how his heart had stopped when Zidane was in real danger. To think, all those times over the 4 years they had known one another back on Terra, all the times he had plotted to get rid of him, found the weaknesses in Garland’s guard, all the times he had truly attempted to kill Zidane…

These last times, when Zidane was in danger, he had jumped to save him.

Zidane could hardly believe it, himself, despite what had happened at the Iifa Tree. He had sensed it then and had known it after their conversation that final day.

“Do you love me?” he asked. Kuja stopped and turned to face him.

“What a ridiculous notion. Why would I love the one who was made to replace me?”

“You’ve saved me more than once. It’s not like you’re all that angry with me.”

“I suppose that is true. Even so, I wouldn’t say I love you.”

“Yeah, that was too strong. But you care about me.” Zidane scrambled up and looked at Kuja. When Kuja looked back, he saw those same bright blue eyes that had always sought his approval as a child, and his expression went from shock to a soft fondness.

“That is true. Come. Sit for tea. I…” There were so many old memories in his head. “I want to tell you about those years. You were just a child. I doubt you remember much.”

“Just a blue light.” Zidane sat down at a table in Kuja’s room as Kuja summoned forth a teaset and started brewing.

“The blue light of Gaia’s crystal, shining in Terra’s sky. It shone over Terra from failed fusion to Terra’s destruction at my hand, but those ends are too far out for this.” He chuckled and sat down. “When I was in my early years, I felt unstoppable and invincible, moreso than the ship.”  
  
Zidane snickered.

“However, when I was 7, Garland announced a new plan. He had, without notifying me until it was too late, decided to make a second Angel of Death — you. I hated you from the moment you were taken from your containment unit, an annoying and squealing babe in arms. Garland didn’t let you go for a moment when you were so little.”

He checked the tea. Zidane was leaning forward.

“Then you started growing at what seemed a remarkable pace, though I suppose you used all your growing as a small child, given how short you are now.”

“I’m not short!” Zidane protested.

“Only a short person protests so,” Kuja said.

“Well we can’t all have 200cm,” he said, pouting. Kuja chuckled.

“Indeed. When you were old enough to see and follow, somewhere around 2 years, you followed me everywhere. I started asking for more missions just so I could get away from you. Any time I came home, there you were, reaching to be picked up. I figured it would be easier to eventually dispose of you if I had your trust, so I often held you. You liked to yank on my hair.” Kuja rubbed his head where it had been pulled. He could still feel it, blast.

“Did I? Makes sense, it looks silky.”

“It brought you an unfortunate amount of joy. I wanted to tear those little hands of yours off, but doing so would anger Garland. You often ran from your tutors due to boredom and sat attentively when _I_ taught you the basics of life. You also ran from them just to track me down when you thought I was around. You have always been exceedingly capable at finding me when you want to. It’s a horrid talent.”

“Came in handy here, huh? I found you even now~” Zidane said, chuckling. Kuja rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile.

“Yes, and much like other times, you nearly died doing it. I thought to let you fall the last time, but you had control over your tail by then and saved yourself,” Kuja said. He poured the tea.

“What happened after that?” Zidane asked.

“Mm. After that, you turned three and learned how to hold a knife. Garland thought that hand to hand combat would save you from the injuries I often sustained. I learned to float, you learned to fight. Of course, it could hardly be called fighting. You attacked the air more often than not. I healed your injuries, as _my_ spare time was given to _you_.”

“Time you coulda spent on anything else, right?”

“Precisely. I felt utterly overwrought by your constant presence in my life. I tried many ways to dispose of you, hoping you would disappear successfully. However, as time passed, Garland wanted you on a tighter and tighter leash. Any moment I had with you was soon marred by _his_ presence as well. Ah, this is not about me. Apologies,” Kuja said, covering his face and embarrassment. Zidane chuckled.

“It’s alright. I like hearing this stuff. Besides, if you were there all the time, I bet I don’t have a lot of missing memories without you in them.”

“Fair enough. Between missions, I was your caretaker. When you learned speech, you asked me of what I saw, and I told you about the people beyond. Your excitement was what gave me the idea.”

“The idea?”

“To send you off to Gaia to disappear. I looked through the eye of the _Invincible_ for a suitable place and found that it had difficulty with populous places — places like Lindblum.”

The light shone in Zidane’s eyes as he connected the dots. Kuja nodded.

“I asked Garland to let me take you with me to Gaia for a reconnaissance mission when you were 4 and I was 11. I was excited, for it was the moment I was waiting for. Zidane, you were so excited to finally see the place in my stories, to see a blue sky that didn’t glow and plants that were green and numerous. It was quite endearing to see it, though I only saw it as funny due to the cruelty about to befall you.”

“So why change from wanting to kill me to just wanting to get rid of me?” Zidane asked.

“Killing you would have made me as barbaric as every other wretched Alexandrian, Lindblumite, Burmecian, and other. I wished to prove myself a superior being and left you on the streets of Lindblum.”

“Oh. Good thing you did. Otherwise I would’ve been an Angel of Death and killed a lot of people.”

“And many more than me, given your life would have been longer and you likely would have gladly done Garland’s bidding. He doted on you fiercely, gave you everything you asked for. How infuriating it was to see you not want to ask for more than you needed despite that.” Kuja rolled his eyes and looked to Zidane with a fond smile.

“So that’s more or less what happened, huh?” He drank his tea, still not quite used to the dainty, graceful ways of the courts.

“Indeed. Perhaps if I had let you stay, you would have picked up better manners.”

“And when did you learn yours? Do you have any cookies for this?”

“Tea only. I learned when I wandered among the Treno nobles and got invited to their parties how to act. It was a fast act of learning.”

“No kidding. Those stuffy nobles always look at me when they come to parties like I’m a… a…” Zidane waved his hand.

“A circus monkey.”

“A circus monkey!”

“You have the tail for it.”

“Hey!”

“Hey, what?” Kuja asked, sipping and looking at Zidane. Zidane pouted. Kuja closed his eyes to enjoy the flavor.

“So do you, you know.”

“Oh, please. You know my tail is fit for the eyes of royalty.”

“Why did you hide it before?” Zidane asked.

“Hide it?” Kuja asked, looking up at him from his cup. “I didn’t have one before.”

“You _what_?”

“You always did find that curious once upon a time.”

“How did you end up with one in Trance?”

“I suppose it must have been…” Kuja hummed. “There in my DNA. A leftover from the manipulation of the genome genomes.” He chuckled at the pun. What lovely word play. He ought to put that down somewhere.

“DNA?” Zidane asked. Kuja blinked.

“Of course. That was something Garland wanted me to cover with you after our trip to Gaia.” He quickly explained DNA as strands of code that made the blueprints by which bodies are built, as buildings are built from their own plans. Zidane nodded in understanding.

“I do remember, you once likened global warming to _heatstroke_ ,” Kuja said, chuckling.

“What?” Zidane’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mikoto and I were talking about it recently. She mentioned that airships were likely to pollute the air and cause the planet to be unable to expel its heat properly. I had taught you of such a concept once, because you came to bother me while I was reading on it. When I explained it to you, you likened the idea of the earth expelling heat to sweating, and said it was like heatstroke if it couldn’t succeed.”

“Wow. I made a good metaphor~”

_Is it also a thing for us to have big heads over our capabilities?_ Kuja wondered. Kidnapping, egoism, what else lay in wait for him to discover as a link between all three siblings? Were they also something that Garland had once possessed? He ruminated over his cup of tea.

“Kuja?” Zidane asked, looking at him.

“Ah, sorry. Lost in thought. You have an egotistical attitude toward the things you do.”

“I do not!” Zidane scoffed, then thought it over and nodded with a grimace on his face. “Maybe I do.”

“I haven’t seen it in Mikoto yet.”

“You haven’t seen her go off about machinery that she’s come up with, then. She gets that way around Regent Cid.”

Welp. “Fantastic, so we’re all full of ourselves.”

“More or less. I guess we all learned when we can be,” Zidane said.

“I’m very much still learning,” Kuja replied quietly. He got a small nod in response.

“Kuja?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re still around. It would have been fitting for you to die, I guess, but…”

Kuja tilted his head curiously and waited for Zidane to continue, sipping tea as Zidane closed his eyes and took a deep breath, flexed his fingers, tail flicking.

“The others… Um… They don’t think you should be allowed to live.”

“Understandable.” Kuja’s heart dropped. Then it would be dangerous to leave Alexandria, and equally dangerous to stay.

“I want you to live, Kuja. Your life… You can try again, can’t you? You already are, right?”

“I am.” Sort of. The Lani thing was a guilt trip. Zidane nodded.

“You’re becoming a better person, Kuja. I see it. We all do. You just need to do what you can to move forward.”

“Or else outlive my bad reputation.” There were many whose reputations had gone on beyond them. If Madalene had lived past 25, if she had lived past the point people knew her face, she could have been a different person. She, herself, could have taken the name Beatrix as an elderly woman and slipped away into the unknown. He could change his name in a few decades and none would be the wiser for it.

“Outlive it? Come to think of it, how are you here now?”

“I do not feel death intruding upon my consciousness any longer, so I can only assume that things have been taken care of, one way or another,” Kuja said. He shrugged.

“Do you know anything of how you made it?”

“I awoke, found my way to the Desert Palace, then passed out rather abruptly. I remember nothing after until I reached Conde Petie, and even the memories I do have are vague.”

“That sounds like what Mikoto told me. Right, her birthday is coming up in a couple days, June 12th. She’s gonna be 3 years old,” Zidane said, smiling.

“That soon?” What was a _birthday?_ “What do we do for this?”

“Right, time stood still for Terra and I doubt you had many friends who did birthday stuff.”

“Indeed not. There were some birthday celebrations, but I never understood the why of it.”

“We celebrate birthdays to mark the passing of time and to make a big deal out of getting through another year. Baku always got us cake and a couple pies, and we got to have a nice dinner if we had good pulls,” Zidane said.

“Is that so? And what of Mikoto’s celebration?”

“It’s gonna be all of our friends. Some of the genomes and mages, mine and Dagger’s, Regent Cid,” Zidane said. Kuja blinked.

“The Regent of Lindblum?”

“Yep! They’re good friends. And Hildagarde is coming, too.”

Oh, fan _tas_ tic. Kuja nearly dropped his tea.

“Don’t worry, she only hates you impersonally. She said you were nothing but a gentleman to her, so I think you’ll be okay if you greet her.”

“Are you certain of that? Not just making it up to spare my feelings?” Kuja asked. Zidane shook his head.

“I had a lot of venting to do about you when I returned, so a lot of people got the brunt of it. She said she wants to slap you.”

“She can do so if she pleases,” Kuja said. “I’ll not flee. What did you vent about?”

“Mostly that you were so self-deprecating at the end. It was so unlike you.”

That wasn’t true. Kuja was slowly coming to terms with it. He poured himself a second cup, a second for Zidane, then sipped deeply. He had always beaten himself up for not being enough for anyone.

“It’s like me,” he said. “I have always had an inferiority complex. I covered it well, though not too well, I suppose. Everything came apart. I was… at peace, of a sort. There was nothing I could do, and so I did not fret about the end to come,” Kuja said. He sipped again and pondered that briefly.

“You thought you were useless to the world,” Zidane said. Kuja nodded.

“I still am. I arrived too late to make a difference with the rebuilding. I can’t bring anyone back.”

“That doesn’t make you useless. Mikoto is really happy to have you around. You gave Lani a piece of her mother. Just because you’re not making the world turn, it doesn’t mean you’re useless, Kuja.”

“That’s enough,” Kuja said. He set his teacup down rather forcefully.

“Kuja, I really mean it.” Zidane hopped up to grab Kuja’s sleeve, maybe pull him into a friendly hug.

“I know. Get out.” This felt strange.

“What did I do? Kuja—”

“Just get out!” Kuja’s heart was racing. Why…?

Zidane moved for the door and let himself out, looking with concern toward his brother, and oh, how it _burned_ to see that. Kuja couldn’t stand it and closed the door hurriedly. He locked it for good measure.

“Kuja! What’s going on with you? Please don’t shut me out now! It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, just please let me in?” Zidane asked, hands on the door. He heard it latch and bit his lip, then ran off to find Steiner or Amarant.

Why? Why why why why? Kuja’s internals were a roiling mess of emotion, swirling in his stomach and up his throat and setting his heart ablaze so badly it pounded and threatened to break free of its confines. He couldn’t do the same. Instead, he curled up on the floor as tightly as he could and tried to focus his breathing. At least he knew by now that he would cry. And he did.

“Ge _hah_ …” Kuja let out a keen and tried to control his breathing. He could feel his ribcage as sobs overtook it and sent him spiraling into hyperventilation. Why!? The other times were easier to track and understand, so why this time…?

His tail curled on him and pressed as much as it could. Everything hurt in a painful ache, thousands of needles hovering just over his organs and organs distressed and crying out, lungs unable to breathe, couldn’t breathe, can’t _breathe._ There was no way he could make sense of what had just happened. He barely understood it, himself. Why…? Why, when he was finally at peace with his brother, just a little, why…?

He dug his nails into his scalp to try and restart something, to regain control like he had before. He didn’t tug at his hair, just dug them hard into the skin. The pricking under his nails, on his scalp, digging in around his thick mane of hair, it… felt nice. Some small part of him could understand the appeal of a scalp massage. He dug in harder and it hurt more, points of pain, points of reference. He tried again to control his breathing and got a deep breath in. Success was short-lived as he let out a keen.

Every breath was let out on a scream that he tried to keep quiet. He didn’t need anyone to come in because they were worried. He didn’t need them to worry for him. He had done nothing to deserve it. Was that it? No, it… it didn’t feel right.

No matter what, he couldn’t let the others see him like this. It was bad enough that he had intruded on their lives. They didn’t need to waste their time on him.

That went through his head over and over. No need to waste time on him. He was a waste of time. He didn’t need to get in their way. He ought to leave.

And there was Mikoto’s face again, distraught over his attempt. He bit his lip and dug in harder, curled tighter, crushed his skull between his thighs and tried to break it open, stopped, tried again. The pain on his skull made it easier to focus down the pain elsewhere.

Kuja couldn’t die. Kuja couldn’t stay. Kuja had to leave but Kuja had nowhere to go and when had he started thinking of himself in the third person like that?

He was losing it. He needed… He…

He needed to go. He needed to get out of this castle and its happy opulence.

Kuja turned toward the wardrobe and stretched himself across the floor, then crawled over to it before he regained the strength to stand and pulled it open. He selected a few outfits and lay them on the bed before stuffing them in his bag. There was room for food and water. He could likely find some water skins and fill them somewhere. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know a couple things about how people traveled, even if he had never had to do so, himself.

Now, for the next part…

Kuja put the pack on and dimly became aware of fervent knocking on his door. He closed the window, then took a few of the many pillows on his bed — how kind to be provided so many — and stuffed them under the blanket to make it look like he had decided to take a nap. Then he stood in the center of the room and closed his eyes, concentrated on the kitchen and sought the pantry.

With a shimmer and a _shing!_ , he transported into the pantry, where he stuffed a loaf of bread, some cheese, a few apples, and dried meat into the remaining space of his bag. After that, he concentrated on his earlier memory of the alleyway and ported again.

It was unfortunate, then, that that was where his strength gave out.


	12. Love's Labors Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja meets Ruby! He also goes shopping and bonds more with Zidane — his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heehee

Kuja didn’t know how long he had been out for, only that the sun was somewhere still high in the sky.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” someone said, and rather loudly at that. He glared at them from the frumpled pile he had ended up in, only to see a pair of red eyes watching him. The eyes softened as he unfurled and stood, tail thumping angrily on the wall.

“You…” the person said. He could see quite clearly that this one was… endowed… in the chest. His height made it a bit of an issue not to see that, but he kept his eyes trained on her face and those eyes.

“You’ve got a tail like a monkey-brained idiot friend of mine.”

“Zidane?” Kuja asked, uncertain of where this was going. He suddenly wondered if he really needed so many outfits. Wouldn’t a second shirt and a pair of pants suffice? Maybe he could offload on this person and use the room for more food. His vision went a bit funny for half a second.

“That’s the one! You know him?”

Did she not know his face? Did she not know his status? Kuja could have sworn the whole world knew.

“I-I do, yes.” He decided not to mention how.

“Where from? Oh, I bet you were one of the people who came to greet us after performances with Tantalus. Or maybe at the castle after his engagement?”

“Ah, yes, after a performance from Tantalus. One of the ones in—“ If he used Treno, she could place him. “— Alexandria.”

“Ooh, did you come to see our performance of _I Want To Be Your Canary?”_

“I did!”

“Then you saw how Zidane did his proposal, throwing that cloak off and shouting for Dagger. It was so romantic~”

“Yes, I did.” Kuja smiled and affected the same dreamy look on her face, pretending like he knew what she was talking about.

“Anyway, where are my manners? My name is Ruby,” the woman said, smiling. She held out her hand to shake. Kuja accepted it, wishing he had a second name to use that wasn’t his! Wait.

“Estienne. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, too!”

“I must be on my way, Miss Ruby. It was nice to meet you.” Kuja bowed lightly and walked onward. He was hit by a dizzy spell and leaned against the wall for a moment before moving onward despite the spinning.

“Not in that condition! Not without some help.” Ruby ducked under his arm and hoisted him a bit, frogmarching him along somewhere. Kuja couldn’t really complain. He could have gotten away, but with his head still spinning a bit, he didn’t dare to.

They ended up walking through the streets of town to a place that was almost a hole in the wall. Stairs led down into a basement area, where a dining lounge and bar stood on one side and a stage stood on the other. Ruby sat Kuja down at the bar and worked behind the bar to get some water for him.

“Going on a trip in your condition is only goin’ to end in tragedy, darling, and tragedies should be kept on-stage,” she said, pouring out two glasses. “That’s something I’ve started saying since the countries went to war against that Kuja fellow.”

She handed one of the glasses to Kuja and sipped on the other.

“He was a horrible person,” Kuja said.

“You said it. You’d have to be pretty messed up in the head to _want_ to stir up the peace. ‘Course, Zidane has it in his head that Kuja was different somehow.”

“That doesn’t make up for what he did.”

“No, it doesn’t. I lost my parents young to one of his raids. They had been out traveling and he…”

With her silver hair and beautiful eyes… “If I may ask, how old are you, about?”

“That’s an awfully rude question to ask!”

“Apologies. I’ve been researching into him and am trying to get a timeline of his movements. Knowing your age and the place where your parents were attacked will help.” The lie came as easily as any other in his life, though he did feel bad about lying to her.

“Oh! Well, I’m 26. I was about 11 when he attacked them—“

He knew.

“— out about Lindblum.”

He fucking knew when he killed them. He had been 11. It was right after he had dropped Zidane off. He had left Zidane off in the markets around noon and ran into the pair when they were leaving that afternoon with their child. It had been so easy. Kuja had lit down in front of them and smiled, elated at successfully getting rid of Zidane. A single snap and their souls had departed their mortal coils. Then he had disappeared and gone back to Terra, not caring about whether the child saw or not.

“That’s terrible. You have my condolences.” She really did. Ruby, with the eyes for which she must have been named, silvery hair so carefully done, was a friend of his brother’s, in the same troupe as his brother, her life irrevocably changed by him as his brother’s had been. She had such kindness in her eyes, a shrewdness for business, talent on the stage.

“Thanks. It was a long time ago, and Baku took me in after. I was lucky to find him. Zidane and I were found on the same day, y’know.”

“I see. Where did he come from?” Kuja asked.

“Estienne, you sure are a curious fella for being someone who collapses in alleyways.”

“That was a one-off occurrence.” Hopefully.

“We only found out recently. He came from another planet. Can you believe? There was another whole planet inside of ours, like one from outer space!” Ruby laughed and drank some water. Kuja did the same and chuckled.

“How utterly ridiculous,” he said.

“Right? Well, everything is taken care of, now. He’s dead and there’s no more extra-terrestrial threats.”

“Indeed.” He wished it were true, if only for her to keep her peace of mind. “Would it be too much to ask for some water? In bottles is fine. I just need to carry it.”

“Of course, sug. Here, I’ve got a few glass bottles already. Some people need their drinks watered down and don’t know the difference between this and vodka.”

Kuja snorted. “That does sound like many people I’ve met — Zidane included.”

Ruby laughed and helped him pack the bottles away in his bag. “So, where are you headin’?”

“Out and away. Perhaps to the marshes or a forest. Maybe elsewhere. I’ll figure it out as I go.” Kuja shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you have money for the trip?”

“I do not. I’m not planning to do much in towns, anyway. This is more of a camping trip.”

“And you forgot water?”

“And I forgot water.”

“Do you forget water often? You were awful dizzy back there.”

“Just today. Too much excitement, I suppose. I hadn’t realized I was dehydrated.” Ah, improvisation and the good old _yes, and._ How useful. He looked to the stage once more and regarded it. It was a little slipshod, but definitely stable, and it had seen some use between the last maintenance check and now.

“Is this a theater?” he asked. That was a dumb question. Obviously it was a theater, there was a _stage._

“Yes it is! My very own! It took a little saving, but I had plenty on me to be able to open it, myself. This place sees an awful lot of foot traffic on holidays~ People want a good show, and it’s become a hot spot for entertainment besides.”

“That’s lovely to hear. It seems that your life has turned out alright.”

“That it has. I just wish my friends would come by and be actors here instead of staying in Lindblum, but you can’t force others to do what you want.”

“That you can’t. Your friends are a part of Tantalus, correct? I remember seeing another of their plays in Treno. _Wishing Upon A Star_ , I believe, some years ago.”

“I do remember that day. Ah, it was a wonderful performance. I played the lead, of course,” Ruby said, smiling.

“I thought I recognized you. It’s an honor to meet the face of Bernadette. Your performance of her was revolutionary for the part.”

“Wasn’t it? Everyone always plays her as an angry spinster, but I know love when I see it, and that woman was in love with the man she claimed to detest.” Ruby nodded affirmatively, then smiled at Kuja. “Estienne, are you sure you’re going to leave today?”

“It’s a good day, isn’t it? The sky is clear for miles around. I can make good progress going out and away.”

“At least stay til tomorrow. I can put you up,” she said, sounding a little desperate. Maybe she was. It was so rare to find someone else who loved theater like she did. Maybe she was projecting.

“I couldn’t accept your offer, Miss Ruby. It’s far too generous for one such as myself.”

“Hardly! Besides, we have a performance going on tonight and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

“… What’s the admission fee?”

“As a friend of Zidane, it’s free.”

Another good thing to add to the long list of reasons of good things about Zidane: free performances at this little theater.

“Perhaps another time. I thank you for the offer.”

He finished his water. Kuja stood once more and bowed lightly again before heading out. Ruby waved him off and chuckled. What an odd person. To think there would be someone else in this place who had an eye for characters on the stage and could even tell when one character was being played well or not. Estienne had caught her attention, though she had no idea where he hailed from or what he was. She’d have thought he was a genome with that tail. Hang on.

“Ruby! Ruby!” Someone came crashing through her door several minutes later as her brain put two and two together. Ruby turned to see Zidane staring at her with a scared look on his face, hostile shock on hers.

“Zidane, I just… I…”

“Ruby, this is gonna sound insane, but I need your help to find someone.”

“Who, your war criminal of an ‘older brother’?” she spat. Zidane stopped halfway across the floor and gawked.

“Uh. Yeah. Did you see him?”

“He _said_ he was taking off for the forests or the marshes, but he forgot water and money and I don’t know _what_ was in that backpack of his,” Ruby said. She organized her bottles angrily. How dare he lie to her face like that! Estienne indeed! She’d get him, she’d get him _somehow_.

“He… Thank you!” Zidane turned on the spot and bolted off into the streets once again.

“Wait, Zidane!” But he was gone. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Zidane bolted through the streets of town. If Kuja was leaving, he would likely do so by the main entrance. If his magic wasn’t going so well, he would be stuck walking. The idiot would probably find out that his boots weren’t made for rough terrain. Zidane had seen them. They were too fancy for more than a stroll across the cobbles of Treno. Maybe it would be enough to make him turn around?

There! Right at the entrance to the city, there was someone moving toward the gates with a hood over his head. He was taller than several people around. Zidane made his way through the crowd toward him, careful not to call out his name until he finally collided with him at the entrance, knocking Kuja to the ground.

“No, you don’t! Mikoto’s birthday is in two days and you’re gonna be there. You can leave after!”

“Who says I—“ Well, he did want to be there. It’d be nice for Mikoto if he were, and he could use a distraction from his thoughts. Kuja sighed with exasperation. “Fine. How did you figure out it was me?”

“No one walks like you, bro,” Zidane said. He smiled, then got serious and helped Kuja up. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know. Things hurt,” Kuja said.

“Things don’t hurt for no reason. Wanna work through it?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t we—“

“Not with you. I… I need to figure this out alone.” How, Kuja still wasn’t sure. But he knew it wouldn’t help if it were Zidane. Did his problems center on Zidane? That wouldn’t be strange, but after Zidane had stayed by him, how could he possibly take issue with him now!?

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Tell Mikoto I’m working on a present for her. I’ll make sure to get her something nice.”

“She likes machiney stuff, so anything with gears or switches,” Zidane said.

“Right.” He could work with that. Kuja wandered back toward the market and looked around the shops. He found what looked like a chain that ran on gear teeth and gears with teeth, bought two gears and the chain, then put them together with a little magic and a crank, making sure it would turn itself around and around in the hand.

“How is this?”

“That’s better than what I got her,” Zidane said. “I just grabbed some random stuff she could put together.”

“She can make use of them in a myriad of ways,” Kuja replied. “I’m sure she’ll love your present more than anything.”

Zidane smiled broadly. Kuja smiled, too. This was nice. Bonding.

“This is better bonding than your preferred method,” Kuja said.

“What’s wrong with my method?”

“It’s unsightly and unsanitary.”

“I’m not taking you shopping every time you want to bond.”

“We don’t have to shop, as long as you never try to coax me to pee off a ledge with you again. It was awkward.”

“That just means you need to do it more often!”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, please~?” Zidane looked up at Kuja with puppy dog eyes. Kuja raised an eyebrow and gave him a withering look in return.

“Okay, no more manly bonding like that.”

“And what’s wrong with shopping, anyway? You can learn a lot this way.”

“Yeah, right. Maybe what’s for sale.”

“Indeed. Knowing what a place sells tells you what the local populace wants and needs. Food, clothing. Those are, more or less, a given. The styles and amount of styles versus simple clothing can tell you what the expected state of wealth of the people is. That is why Treno has so many stores of jewelry and clothing, as well as high quality food. The people within it can afford such things, though I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Got it. That’s why Dali doesn’t have a clothing shop, and its food tends to be given out instead of bought.”

“Precisely. That is also why it made a lovely place to set up a Black Mage factory,” Kuja said quietly. “No one would suspect a backwater frontier town of being the epicenter of a production facility.”

Zidane stared at him.

“Don’t think I plan to do that a second time. It went horribly in every way the first.” Kuja looked downcast. Zidane took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze, then smiled reassuringly. It still made Kuja’s heart fuzz like something was wrong — _undeserving_ — but he squeezed back and walked out of the shop, then returned once more to Alexandria Castle.

“Will you ever let me leave this place?”

“Sure! The day after Mikoto’s birthday. She and Amarant and everyone else will be heading out then, too.”

“Everyone else?”

“Yep! It works out perfectly, I think. Freya is coming along with Sir Fratley, Eiko and the Regent are coming, Quina is coming up with a special new recipe~” Zidane counted them off on his fingers. Kuja gulped. So the whole party was coming back together, huh? Sans one, given that Vivi was dead.

“Hey, don’t worry. They’ll all be here tomorrow, and we’ll make sure they know you’re here on Mikoto’s request.”

“So they won’t start anything, but that won’t stop them from staring me down.” This was going to be uncomfortable. Day 1 was off to a great end.

“So… you met Ruby,” Zidane said.

“I did. She’s an old friend of yours,” Kuja replied.

  
“She is. She seemed pretty ticked off at you.”

“I killed her parents.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“Gleefully. I’d just gotten rid of you.”

“Oh.” Zidane bit his lip. He didn’t know what to say to that. “I’m sorry.”

“I need to apologize to her. Not today.”

“Not today. Ruby is gonna be throwing glass if you show up again.” He chuckled panickedly. “Hoo… She’s got a good arm.”

“Does she now? Did she learn that on your head?” Kuja asked.

“Haha! Not just me, the others, too, before she figured out how to insult us.”

“I see.” Kuja chuckled. “She is quite the character.” He thought he might have liked to be friends with her, if only he hadn’t messed it up years and years ago.

“Right? I bet we can get her to come around,” Zidane said. He knew how much Ruby liked plays, and Garnet did say that Kuja was always talking like all the world was a stage. “I think you two would get along!”

“As do I.” If only.

“We just gotta put some work into it! Tell you what, since the party might be a bit much for you, what if I invite her along to chill with you after?”

“… Zidane.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the same problem. She hates me.”

“Let me talk to her,” Zidane said. He flashed his reassuring smile, but Kuja was anything but reassured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zidane is trying his best. he really is


	13. Possibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja gets help from Garnet. Then the festivities threaten to begin.

Back at the castle, Kuja deftly hid the present he got with his tail as Mikoto bounded up to him.

“Frére! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mikoto. Sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay. You’re not good with emotions,” Mikoto said. “I can’t say I really am, either.”

“You’re still young, Miko. I haven’t that for an excuse.”

“Yeah, but you were stunted. You’re younger than I am on the emotion front.”

“Fair enough.” She did have a point, she had been working on the emotion thing for a couple years now. “That means even you are my senior in this regard. How embarrassing to be the oldest sibling and still direly in need of his baby sister!” Kuja raised an arm to his forehead dramatically and gave a stage cry. Mikoto giggled.

“Fear not, Frére! I will give you guidance!”

“And we’ll help you, too, okay?” Zidane said. Kuja looked to him and nodded, a small smile on his face. That was nice. Steiner and Beatrix came up alongside Garnet.

“If it will help you to become a better person, then… I will put aside my grudge, as Queen Garnet wishes,” Steiner said. Kuja blinked and stared at him.

“You don’t have to sacrifice your personal feelings for my sake,” he said.

“As long as King Zidane is willing to abide your presence and Queen Garnet allows it, I will do my utmost by you.”

“Thank you,” Kuja said. What else could he say?

“I, too. If my Queen wishes it, I will try to help you be a better person,” Beatrix said. Kuja had no doubt, from the look in her eye, that she still wished nothing more than to kill him. He bowed deeply to her.

“I shall defer to your teachings.”

“Kuja,” said Garnet, stepping forward. “Come with me for a moment, please.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kuja followed as Garnet made her way to her rooms, where a teaset sat waiting for them on a table. Garnet beckoned him to sit before moving to get a book. She set it before him and sat across from him, then moved to pour the tea. Kuja’s hands shot out to pour it for her.

“Ah. Apologies. Force of habit,” he said in embarrassment. Garnet chuckled.

“You still have fast reflexes. Not as fast as Zidane.”

“Indeed not. I never could catch him when we battled.” Kuja smiled wistfully. “He shot around so quickly around that platform. How did he not bash his face on the crystal? I’d have thought it more slippery than that.”

“I don’t know.” Garnet laughed and sipped her tea. Kuja smiled, then furrowed his brow as he looked around the room.

“This is the Queen’s Apartment. Queen Brahne rested her head here.”

“She did.”

“Queen Garnet, may I take a quick look around?”

“To what end?”

“Your mother was a smart woman, but clever, no. She had a place where she hid valuable things. When she possessed your eidolons, she stored them between capture and deployment there.”

“How do you know about it?”

“Because I know where people hide things.” He tapped on the mantel and opened a secret hatch, then pulled out what was inside. There was an old letter, a necklace, and a deck of Tetra Master cards.

“That’s her necklace. She was never without it.”

“She didn’t wear it when we entered Burmecia. She never took it on campaign.” Kuja handed them over. “I thought I might be able to reunite you with a small piece of her, like I did Lani. I…”

Garnet looked up when he paused to see him looking away from her in trepidation.

“I want forgiveness. I want a fresh start. I don’t deserve either for what I’ve done.”

“I understand. Now that you’ve been given new life, you don’t want to waste it, do you?”

“I don’t, no.”

“Come here and sit.”

Kuja sat and sipped on his tea. Garnet flipped open the book in front of her. Its pages were blank. He raised an eyebrow at it as she turned it toward her and wrote some things in it.

“Here. When I was little, I found it useful to write what I felt down. I was able to process them. Looking back through recently, I found that dreams I had were memories of when I escaped with my mother.”

“And good you did.” He looked at what she had written down. She’d filled a page with some basics of what to ask.

_Name:_

_Day:_

_Current Feeling: Happy, Sad, Angry, Scared, Disgusted, Surprised_

Evidently, he was to circle one of those. Garnet added a full wheel to the front of it and smiled at him. It included more words, and she even added definitions.

“It’s important to have words to describe how you’re feeling.”

“Right…” There was space beneath to write more. There, she had written a note.

_I feel this way because of…_

“You use it like a normal journal from there. Write what you experienced before the emotion started if you can remember, then trace through it a step at a time. Okay?”

“Okay.” This was stupid. He could surely do better than write in some book. He was _Kuja_ for goodness sake! Even if he wasn’t so powerful, he could still handle himself fine, feelings worked through or not.

“Ah, and for the name section, write what you want to call yourself. That way you can understand how you’re feeling even better.” She opened her own journal and showed a few places. It ranged from _Princess_ to _Idiot._

“There were plenty of days where I felt like I wasn’t doing well in my studies.” Other places had nicer things, like _Fairy._ “And there were days when I was on top of the world.”

“Has Zidane seen this?”

“He’s read it through 4 or 5 times now,” Garnet said, chuckling. Kuja handed it back and set the journal on his lap.

“Thank you very much for this. I appreciate it, and I also appreciate you letting me stay.”

“Keep in mind, it comes with conditions. You’re lucky that Zidane is putting so much faith in you,” Garnet said. Her earlier kindness had disappeared, replaced by a hard light and searching look.

“My attempt to cast magic off the balcony wasn’t well-received, hm?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“How unfortunate. Here I was thinking I could do a fireworks display come the next festival. Perhaps tomorrow for Mikoto’s birthday.” Kuja chuckled. Garnet rolled her eyes.

“If you do anything without supervision or permission, you’ll be summarily banished from Alexandria.”

“Understandable. Shall I go?” Kuja asked. “To do something else in the castle. I don’t plan to leave again any time soon.”

“Of course. Go ahead.” Garnet saw him off as Kuja glided along down the halls of the castle toward his guest room.

Inside, he set down his pack and removed one of the water bottles from it. It was heavy, being made of glass and filled with a good amount of water. He sipped from it. There was no residual taste of alcohol. Ruby had been truthful when she mentioned that it wasn’t vodka. He also broke into the food he wouldn’t need to carry any longer, putting some cheese on bread and slicing an apple easily with his magic. At least he could do that much. How much time had he lost in his unconsciousness? He hadn’t thought to ask.

A knock came to his door. Blast these people and their nosing.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Mikoto,” Mikoto said, her voice sounding rather emotional. Kuja raised an eyebrow and opened the door for her.

“Come inside.”

“You tried to run.”

“And made bad timing of it. I forgot your birthday is tomorrow,” Kuja said.

“I don’t think I mentioned when my birthday is,” Mikoto said. She thought back on their conversations, but even the long ones from their time flying across the Outer Continent hadn’t mentioned it.

“Zidane told me,” Kuja said. He smiled and sat Mikoto down at the table, then poured the water into his teapot and started brewing again.

“You were gone for a couple hours,” she said. “Where did you go?”

“I teleported out and away, then collapsed from exhaustion. I met a woman named Ruby. She’s a friend of Zidane’s, apparently.”

“I love her plays. She has a good sense of character interaction.”

“Is that so? I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing her work. When did she begin?”

“It was sometime in February of 1800.”

“Ah. That year…” The year things fell apart for everyone because of him. Kuja bit his lip. Mikoto put a hand on his arm.

“She opened a mini theater for people and even hired on an actor from Treno to take the lead roles.”

“Interesting—“ Wait. “Which actor?”

“I don’t remember his name.”

“Lowell Bridges?” That man whom no one would hire because of his terrible attitude?

“That’s the one!”

Figures he had had to move towns just to find work. What a loser. Ruby could do better than let someone like that stick around.

“He comes back every once in a while. When he shows up, a lot of people come to the show, but the two clash so often it’s hard for him to stay employed under her.” Mikoto giggled. Kuja cracked a smile and poured the tea for them both.

“That sounds familiar. I do remember hearing many rumours about his bad attitude and how everyone detested working with him. He’s far too full of himself to play nice with others.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Hardly. I may be the most amazing being to ever walk the earth, but I at least know how to kiss up and make allies.”

“That’s true. Mr. Bridges doesn’t really play nice with others unless they want to serve him,” Mikoto said, humming thoughtfully. She sipped on her tea and regarded Kuja for a bit. Kuja watched her watching him, staying still until she looked back to her tea.

“I’m still mad. I really want you to be present tomorrow and it hurt to think you’d run out before we thought you would. So you owe me.”

“I did get you a present,” Kuja said.

“More than that. You… have to be my chocobo. All day.”

“Be your chocobo?” What did she mean by that?

“Yes. That means I ride on your back and you have to kweh.”

“Ah.”  
  


“And sing the chocobo song.”

“The what?”

Mikoto sang the chocobo theme. Kuja sang it with her quietly until he got it and bit his lip. This was not going to be fun.

“Do I have to do this?”

“Yes. You owe me.”

He sighed. “How can I say no to my dear little sister? I’ll be your chocobo all day tomorrow, I promise.”

“Good!” Mikoto smiled brightly and gulped her tea down, then relaxed. She headed out soon after with a hug to Kuja. He was surprised for a moment, but Mikoto was an oddly affectionate person, and it did feel nice, so he accepted it and hugged her back.

After they had finished, Kuja decided to put a note on his door that he wasn’t to be disturbed until dinner time. There were far too many people in his room, and if he was going to be occupying this place a day longer, he at least wanted to spend it in peace. Still, he couldn’t stay still and found the walls claustrophobic before long, sending him out and away to the hallways to wander restlessly from the eyes of one guard to another.

Kuja paused when he heard voices inside the library. It sounded like Garnet and Zidane. He moved closer, floating to quiet his heels on the stone, and listened carefully.

“I just don’t know, Zidane. He certainly does seem different, but…”

“Please, just keep giving him a chance. Our friends are coming, and I know Freya won’t let him get away with anything. It’ll work out. It always has before.”

“How can you be certain?” Steiner asked.

“Because I know what I heard that day in the Iifa Tree,” Zidane said. “He had finally realized the value of life. He knew what it meant to be alive and to lose it, and he realized how wrong he was to do what he had done.”

Kuja bit his lip. Why…? It was obvious the others had no trust in Kuja, despite their kind words and attempts to be cordial, so why did Zidane say that? Why was he trying so hard!?

“And?” Beatrix’s gentle voice rang out.

“And I think he should have the chance to do what he can.”

Kuja felt his heart clench and flew back to his room. He shut himself back inside and refused to come out until the next day, no matter who knocked on his door. A servant came by with dinner, the only soul allowed to enter. He ate mechanically, set the tray down outside the door to be picked up, curled up on his bed and wondered how it would be tomorrow.  
  


What did they want him to be? What was he? For just a moment, he regarded the journal that Garnet had handed him, then pushed it under a pillow and fell into a restless sleep.

“You are my Angel of Death, the savior of Terra.”

“What is Terra?”

“Terra is…”

Kuja awoke before that sentence finished and sighed. Terra was his home planet, which he had once been sworn to bring back to life. Garland had impressed that upon him heavily. He furrowed his brow and hissed, then shook his head and took a bath.

Once he had finished his morning routine, Kuja dressed in another new outfit, a real copy of his old one, and remembered his promise to Mikoto. He sighed and flicked his hair back, then wandered off to find Mikoto’s room.

“Excuse me, where is Mikoto staying?” he asked a guard. How forgetful of him not to find out who was where. Just because he hadn’t needed the knowledge… Did he not learn useful things about people based on who wanted what room consistently?

The guard pointed him in her direction. Kuja thanked her and continued onward toward Mikoto’s room. As it turned out, they were in the same hallway. How had he not noticed? Was he really so absorbed in his own sorrows? Pathetic.

Not the time. Kuja took a deep breath, then knocked on Mikoto’s door. She opened it a minute later.

“Frére! You’re here.” Her eyes brightened and her mouth widened in a big smile.

“I did promise to be your chocobo for the entire day,” he said, smiling gently. It was nearly impossible for him to be negative with her smiling so.

“Right! Let’s go to breakfast!”

“Okay. Hop on.” Kuja turned around and bent down to let Mikoto onto his back. Mikoto climbed on and kicked him gently.

“Hyah!”

“Have you ridden chocobos before?”

“I learned how from Zidane.”

“I see.” Zidane knew how to ride chocobos. Kuja couldn’t catch them at the start of his life. He stood and cleared that thought process out of his head as he started down the hall.

“Chocobo, choco choco chocobo~” Mikoto sang. Kuja joined in and kept singing as Mikoto gave him gentle directions, hands on his shoulders and light pushes telling him to go to the dining hall. The guards they passed couldn’t help but smile or giggle when they watched the pair go.

Kuja ended up bouncing a bit with his steps as they entered the dining hall, where they found other friends of theirs who had arrived quite early: Quina, who was too excited to arrive to be able to eat breakfast before showing up; Freya and Fratley, who had also foregone their own meal to eat with the others. Zidane and Steiner were hanging out with them.

“Zidane!” Mikoto called. She waved as Zidane waved back. Freya was instantly on the defensive when she saw Kuja, but relaxed when it was clear that Mikoto felt there was no danger.

“So it’s true, then. You’re alive,” Freya said.

“Kweh,” Kuja replied. Mikoto giggled.

“You can talk now, Frére.”

“Thank you. Yes, I’m alive,” Kuja said, setting Mikoto down to eat. He took a seat next to her. Steiner filed in on his other side.

“Why?” Freya asked.

“That is the question, isn’t it? I can’t say I remember well, but I do know that I was able to put myself back together, so to speak. I am immortal once again.”

“That’s not my question. It answers the how but doesn’t answer _why_ you’re alive.”

“…” He understood, or he thought he did. “Do you mean that as in why I survived despite apparently dying? Or do you instead mean why did I survive and not the others?”

“Both.”

“Another time, perhaps. This is hardly the conversation to have over the first meal of the day, and certainly not one for this particular day,” Kuja said, smiling to Mikoto. Freya nodded in agreement and chatted with Mikoto about her birthday.

“I thought I would be a proper Angel of Death by now,” Mikoto said. “I’m glad I’m not!”

“So are we,” Zidane said, smiling. He looked at Kuja. “You, too. You’re not an Angel of Death, either, right?”

“Not anymore. I have no intention of once again pursuing that path.”

Mikoto hugged him again. Kuja stiffened and looked down at her, then patted her shoulder awkwardly.

The conversation stayed light from there until they finished eating. Soon after, Regent Cid and his family arrived. Eiko bounded over to Zidane and grinned.

“Good morning, King Zidane,” she said, curtsying perfectly.

“Good morning, Lady Eiko.” Zidane bowed in turn. Then the two of them burst into laughter. Kuja tilted his head in confusion over their antics and looked to Mikoto.

“Neither of them stand much on social graces.”

“I had gathered that for Zidane, but the little one, too? Ah, wait. That’s Eiko, the one who cursed me out fiercely when I had kidnapped her to extract her eidolons,” he said quietly. Mikoto nodded.

“She’s also my best friend.”

Oh, _fantastic._ Hopefully that would buy him a few points? It would be nice if people didn’t want to kill him, as much as he deserved it.

“Hey, wait,” Eiko said, stalking over to him. “What are _you_ doing here!?”

“I’m here for Mikoto’s birthday,” Kuja said, backing up. Eiko kept pressing on him.

“Is that all?” she asked, pushing Kuja against the wall. Her eyes searched his with a piercing fervor that was… weak. She didn’t have what it took to really glare someone down, though she would one day.

“Yes, it is.”

Mikoto went over.

“He showed up on my doorstep a little while ago and came here with me to stay in Alexandria for awhile. I thought that Zidane could find a way to help him adjust to living again.”

Eiko pouted and glared at Kuja. “If he has your approval, then fine. For now.”

Kuja decided to stay back from the crowd of people. He counted those present for now to gauge how much danger he was in. Garnet, Zidane, Steiner, Amarant, Freya, Eiko. With Vivi gone, there was one missing. Who…?

“Hello! Zidane!” Quina shouted, coming bounding into the room. Ah. There they were.

“Quina!” Zidane grinned and held out his arms, getting wrapped up in a massive hug from the Qu and trying to dodge the tongue. Kuja tried not to snicker at the sight. Quina proceeded to hug the others, as well. Every single one tried to keep away from the tongue, too, and the more people Quina hugged, the more Kuja realized that they were also trying to keep the tongue off their friends. How interesting. Regent Cid and Lady Hildagarde also got hugs, Beatrix too. The three of them were added to Kuja’s list of dangerous figures.

Quina came up to him, standing up to his chest and looking up at him.

“Hmm… Zidane, this is Kuja.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Quina licked Kuja.

“Thwaht! Phwah… Why did you lick me?” Kuja snapped.

“To see how you taste. Taste bad.”

“Bad?”

“Like in a blue magic kind of way?” Zidane asked.

“Yes! Kuja taste is not good, no new magic to learn.”

“Not even Ultima or Flare Star?” Freya asked. Quina shook their head.

“Nothing!”

“Makes sense. I can barely cast Firaga, and teleporting more than once has proven to knock me out,” Kuja said, sighing.

“Really?” Eiko asked. Kuja nodded. She looked at Mikoto, who also nodded.

“Well, Zidane, I’m sure you have a plan for Mikoto’s birthday. Shall we get moving onto it?”

“Definitely!” Zidane took everyone’s attention off of Kuja and led them out of the dining hall. Kuja took Mikoto along, allowed to not sing the song since they were in company. He did still kweh, though. Regent Cid and Hildagarde found it cute.

“Dad, pick me up! I want a chocobo ride, too!” Eiko said, holding her arms up.

“Alright, alright.” Cid bent down and let Eiko on, then grunted as he lifted her. He chuckled and looked back at Kuja, and for a moment, he felt… warm. It was strange. Eiko cheered as Cid kwehed for her.

How did one person manage to make him feel so nice? And why did it not hurt this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im starting to run low on buffer chapters >>;;; time to write like mad


	14. Merry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja enjoys spending time with Mikoto and playing games with everyone until evening.

The group proceeded to the main hall, where Zidane turned around on the spot.   
  


“Alright, first activity of the day! We’re playing hide and seek!”

“Yay!” Mikoto cheered. Kuja looked up her way, curious as to how they planned to play — oh no.

“The rules are…” Zidane gave a dramatic pause. _Oh no._ “You have to stay inside the castle grounds! Go wild! Mikoto, you’re seeking first!”

“Awesome!” She grinned and slapped Kuja’s shoulders a couple times. Kuja kwehed in response, making her giggle. He wasn’t looking forward to trudging across the entire castle area. The two of them closed their eyes. Mikoto counted to 100 to give them time to run, then clapped Kuja’s sides like a real chocobo. He sighed at the move and started off where she told him to go.  
  
“The castle grounds are massive, how are we to find them all?”

“Because they won’t pick good hiding spots. It’s kind of an unwritten rule to make it easier.”

“I see.”

They wandered through the hall and found Cid hiding behind a pillar. Hildagarde was hiding not too far from that spot behind the stairwell to the upper floors. Kuja chuckled and looked up to the chandelier. He pointed when it moved a bit and Mikoto nodded. She leapt off his back and climbed the railing to the second floor, then jumped to the chandelier, fishing Eiko off of it.

“That’s 3. How many more?” Kuja asked.

“7 more,” she said. “There are 12 players and 10 hiders right now.”

“I count as an individual?” Kuja asked.

“Yep.” Mikoto smiled and hopped back onto his back, then hugged him and nuzzled his hair. Kuja chuckled and smiled endearingly at her.

“Wow, you two are close,” Eiko said, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course. What kind of older brother would I be if I didn’t dote on my dear sister?” he asked, bouncing Mikoto. She laughed and twined her tail around his waist to hold on better.

“We gotta go,” she said, clapping on Kuja again. He nodded and went where directed, this time to the garden.

“If I remember correctly from previous games, Zidane should be out here. He prefers the trees, but he may also decide to hide in one of the towers.”

“Am I allowed to float up those towers? That’s a lot of stairs.”

“Yes, you can,” Mikoto said.

Out in the gardens, Kuja found himself compensating as best he could when Mikoto started rocking on his back, making her vision differentiate the world in front of her to find any and all trace of Zidane. Kuja searched low and tapped her quietly on the back when he noted something in a bush. She looked that way and nodded, hopping off to pull out… Freya.

“If you’re here, Zidane isn’t. You two never hide in the same place,” Mikoto said.  
  


“Is that right?” Freya said, smiling. She patted Mikoto on the head and walked past Kuja with a glare. He turned away from her sharp gaze.

“Even so, I want to check the gardens thoroughly. Amarant and Garnet like the library. Bedrooms are off-limits due to privacy.”

“We may find Fratley near here,” Kuja said, looking around. Mikoto nodded. She continued looking and found him soon after, up in the high boughs of a tree.

“2 more, so there are 5 left. Garnet, Amarant, Zidane, Quina, and Steiner.”

“Beatrix is out on patrol while this is happening, I presume?” Kuja said. Mikoto nodded.

“They’ll switch off after lunch.”

“Good for them.” Kuja had a feeling he knew where Steiner was. There was a hallway of armor in the castle, a sort of history lesson in and of itself, detailing the changes across time. What better place for him to hide? Mikoto seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Let’s go to the hall of armor,” she said. Kuja went right there, floating along after awhile. Mikoto giggled.

“White chocobo.”

They entered the hall and found one suit of armor after another. Kuja floated along as Mikoto looked for Steiner. She pointed to one, and Kuja went right to it, allowing her to knock on its helmet.

“Steiner, are you in there?” They heard a slight clatter from another suit down the way. Kuja smirked and walked toward it across the stone floors, his steps muffled for awhile by the carpet. He lifted again and got Mikoto into knocking range. She knocked. The suit, with its closed visor and heavy armor, shuddered and fell off its pedestal, revealing Steiner inside.

“You found me!” he said, chuckling and taking off the helmet. He exchanged it for his own. “How did you sneak up like that?”

“Frére floated over. He’s good at sneaking like that,” Mikoto said, smiling.

“I couldn’t resist a little scare on you,” Kuja said. He put Mikoto down and ignored her pout to lend a hand to Steiner, pulling him up with quite a lot of difficulty. Steiner stood pretty much on his own and straightened his armor.

“Well, thank you for the help. Be careful about scaring people in the future.”

“I will be,” Kuja said.

Mikoto hummed and looked around again, counting on her fingers.

“There are a lot of people to remember,” Kuja said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Steiner, Freya, Fratley, Eiko, Regent Cid, Lady Hilda, Zidane, Garnet, Amarant, Quina…”  
  
“Garnet, Amarant, Zidane, Quina. I’m guessing the library and kitchen are next?”

“You got it!” They went to the kitchen first and looked round. Despite going through each of the numerous rooms, neither Kuja nor Mikoto could catch even a glimpse of Quina. Then a thought struck Kuja.

“Would the remains of our meal still be on the table?”

“Possibly?”

He ran to the dining room and found Quina eating more delicious food.

“Found you!”

“Oh! So you did. I thought I would find a new place to hide. Then I smelled the food and decided to enjoy it and hide here,” Quina said, licking off their plate. Freya returned right after and sat down to eat some leftovers, too, with Fratley.

“Just a few more. Library?” Kuja asked.

“Library. Smart chocobo,” Mikoto said, petting him. Kuja kwehed and went off, singing again as they made their way to the library. He quieted down as they explored the shelves. Amarant was sitting in a meditative pose deep within and acknowledged he had been found.

“Where are the others gathering?” he asked, standing up. His eyes were on level with Mikoto’s.

“They’re in the dining room feasting on leftovers,” she said. He nodded and headed off with a pat on the shoulder to Kuja and a pet on the head for Mikoto. The pair kept looking around for Garnet. After searching awhile, Kuja noticed that the way into the secret room was open. He raised an eyebrow just as Mikoto found Zidane on top of a shelf and jumped up to catch him. While they were distracted, he opened the door the rest of the way and slipped inside, finding Garnet just inside.

“Quite the place to choose,” he said quietly.

“I thought it would be fun for her to find a new hiding place that I know of,” Garnet said, her eyes darkening for a moment before lightening again. Kuja put a hand on her shoulder.

“Queen Garnet, you’ve grown quite a lot since I first met you those years ago,” Kuja said. “You’re not the little girl who followed her mother’s coat any longer.”

“Thank you,” she said, unsure of how exactly to take that. Mikoto popped in soon after.

“Found you! That’s everyone!”

“She got me,” Zidane said, smiling broadly. They all headed back to the dining room together to decide on another game. Kuja realized, as they set off for the garden, that Mikoto really was just a child.

“She liked to play games when we met, too. She played hide and seek with us when we first met, though we didn’t really realize then,” Zidane said to Kuja. Mikoto nodded.

Outside, they set up to play tag. Kuja was relieved of his chocobo duties to be able to run around. Mikoto was first to tag. She proved to be nearly as fast as Zidane, and all of them had difficulty outrunning her, trying instead to get her hooked on catching someone else. Kuja proved to be quite good at that, disappearing behind someone so she would go to them. Even so, he did end up getting tagged at one point.

It wasn’t a good position for him to be in. He didn’t have the stamina that others had and thus had to rely on outwitting them. Freya and Fratley tended to bound out of the way, always facing the tagger. Zidane liked to run willy nilly and put on sudden bursts of speed. Steiner did his best and did prove to be rather difficult. Garnet and Eiko tended to run when they were chased, elsewise waiting to be chased. Amarant easily danced out of the way. Mikoto… Well, he had no idea how she would go.

Thus, he gave chase, having an idea of how he could maneuver them. First, he went after Garnet and Eiko, chasing them right down the middle. Mikoto liked to take leaps and go into running. Perfect. He got Zidane running around like a madman, then turned on a dime and chased down Steiner. Everyone was more or less heading in the directions he wanted.

Fratley bounced away from him and accidentally crashed into Steiner, as planned. Kuja came in on top of him and threw himself onto the pile-up.

“Gwah!” he shouted, like he hadn’t planned to fall. Fratley oofed and Steiner clanked when he fell on the ground.

“Tag…” Kuja said, sitting up. He helped the other two up. Hopefully the clumsy routine would convince the others that he was more harmless than ever.

“Are you okay, Frére?” Mikoto asked. “And you two?”

“Thanks for the concern,” Steiner said, brushing himself off. Mikoto ran a hand through her hair sheepishly.

“It seems it is my turn. This game is quite fun,” Fratley said, smiling. Freya gave him a thumbs up and the game started again. Kuja sighed in relief that he was no longer It. Zidane watched him and raised an eyebrow, then ran beside him briefly.

“You fell on purpose.”

“I thought it’d be assuring for the others that I mean no harm. Having Mikoto’s stamp of approval may give me some credence, but they won’t be convinced unless they see me in action.”

“And how did you succeed in getting them to crash?”

“Sharp eye. I read their movements.”

“Making them crash into each other isn’t gonna win you any trust,” Zidane said.

“Zidane, I have the stamina of an asthmatic chocobo and the speed of a snail. I can’t run around forever.” It was unfortunate, but between his death and not working at it, he had lost his body’s usual strength. To think, he was once able to kick his creator off a ledge and now he could only manage Mikoto on his back for short spurts before needing to float and become weightless.

Zidane snorted at the description. “That sounds funny. I always thought you were stronger than that. You seemed it before.”

“I was.” Kuja ducked out of the way and threw Zidane behind him before Garnet tagged him, chuckling. Zidane squeaked and spun around with Garnet, ending up in a dip with her holding him.

“Wait a minute, this is backwards.”

“I don’t know, I like it. You’re always looking out for me. Now I’ve got you,” Garnet said, smiling.

Kuja chuckled. Mikoto cooed. Zidane blushed and smiled, then rubbed his head and giggled like a dork when he straightened up. Then he started running after the others and got Fratley.

The game continued for awhile. Kuja found himself enjoying it more and more, even laughing a bit whenever he got tagged. Once they called a stop to it, it was time for lunch. Quina had ducked out earlier to put together a good meal for them all.

Eiko proudly led the way back to the dining hall, not getting lost once. Kuja hoisted Mikoto onto his back and sang the chocobo song quietly as they all chatted. There were plenty of furtive glances thrown his way. Apparently, playing the klutz had had the opposite effect from what he had wanted, as several of them now seemed more wary of him than before.

Oops. How could he have misread them so? Then again, it wasn’t like he was used to trying to make people actually like him. Most of the time he was just trying to get people to meet his ends, which was way easier when he presented them with a material gain. There was no material he could hand these friends of Zidane’s to make them happy with him being around.

Tricky tricky. He’d find a way. For now, it seemed that going along with Freya and Fratley was his best bet.

In the dining hall, they were treated to a gourmet but light meal. Beatrix joined them for it, resulting in Kuja being stuck between the couple. He wondered if they were miffed about not being able to sit next to each other. Probably. It took a little doing to dismiss the thoughts of always being in the way of others’ lives.

Mikoto seemed happy with her food, stabbing into it with gusto as she closed her eyes and her tail tapped away. He recognized the look. She had gotten that way a couple times before in the week he had stayed with her. Steiner tried to catch her attention.

“Leave her be, she can’t be reached right now. Mikoto has gone into a special thinking state,” Kuja said, putting a hand on Steiner’s arm. How odd to be so close and so… intimate? No, not intimate. So… friendly with his old enemies who still regarded him as an enemy. The tensing under his hand was unmistakable. “I wonder what it is she’s thinking about.”

Admittedly, he had somewhat zoned out of the conversation. Interrupting would only make the others upset, and he needed to make sure no one was going to be upset with him today. That could happen tomorrow when he inevitably pissed off Freya and got a halberd to the stomach. He might not even need to, given the glares he got from her every so often. Understandable, he was on the ground when the elephant lady burned down Burmecia. He was as much culpable for their lives as anyone else involved.

Off that path, off that path. Kuja took a sip of tea with a sigh and tried to right his thoughts. He refused to be a depressing blanket on Mikoto’s precious 2nd birthday. Stars only knew she’d _remember_ it. That was the last thing he needed.

Mikoto snapped out of it and looked at Zidane. “You should put a ribbon on your tail.”

“What? Sure, yeah, I can do that.”

“We could make that a game,” Beatrix said. “Pin the tail on the monkey.”

Kuja snorted and had to try to contain himself. Zidane puffed, then laughed at her joke.

“Why not? Miko?”

“Sure! But a fake monkey, right? I don’t wanna drive a nail into your butt and send you to the infirmary.”

“Yeah. We’ll get one drawn up and put it up on a wall.” Zidane chuckled at the mental image.

“I’d like to stick you with a nail. Not deeply, just enough to once more voice annoyance at how much of an idiot you are for jumping in after me,” Kuja said.

“Aww, did you not appreciate it?”

“I appreciate it immensely. That’s why I wouldn’ t drive it in deeply.”

“Fight me,” Zidane said.

“Any time, anywhere,” Kuja said coolly.

“Inciting violence?” Steiner asked sharply.

“You must admit, Zidane is a very smackable person. Half of what he says is annoying enough to warrant it.”

“Even so, he is —“

“It’s true, he is smackable,” Mikoto interjected. “Very.”

“Miko, not you too!” Zidane whined. Kuja snorted.

“She sees and speaks only the truth,” he added. Mikoto nodded.

“Like the time you tried to hold my ice cream over my head.”

“Oh, right. You got me with the tail that time.”

“Or all the times you flirted with Freya before meeting Garnet.”

“Right, right,” Zidane said. Freya chuckled.

“Or the time you refused to not go to Lindblum in the airship after kidnapping Garnet twice. Oh, did you know that runs in the family? I threatened to kidnap Kuja and drag him here,” Mikoto said. Kuja nodded.

“She did.”

“Kidnap you from where?” Garnet asked.

“Madain Sari. I was planning to disappear overnight and head there of my own accord to see if I could do some research into the Eidolon Wall. I never mentioned those plans to her…”

“I knew from the look in your eye. I think you would have ticked off some moogles.”

“I likely would have,” Kuja said, shrugging. “Just as well I didn’t. I would have missed the celebration.” He smiled at Mikoto, who beamed back and nommed on her food.

_So cute and innocent._ Kuja wondered if she would have been born at all, had he not done what he had done. No, she wouldn’t have. She was born to replace them both, should they die. If he hadn’t gone and thrown Zidane out and gotten himself thrown out as a consequence, Mikoto wouldn’t have been made.

Things would have been wildly different than they were now. Kuja decidedly preferred things this way.

After lunch, Mikoto turned to the others. “I decided that I want to learn to swim on my birthday.”

“Learn to swim?” Kuja asked. “I’d have assumed you already could with your ease near the pond.”

“I stay close to it, but I don’t usually go in.”

“Well, we have the moat outside! We’ll swim there! Everyone suit up!” Zidane herded everyone to their rooms and looked at Kuja briefly before dragging him along to his own room.

“I have a spare pair of swimming shorts,” Zidane said, as he, Garnet, and Kuja made their way to the royal chambers. Kuja sighed at being in this area twice in so many days. That was nervewracking. Zidane didn’t seem to notice as he pulled Kuja to a private corner and rifled through his drawers, finding a pair of black cotton shorts. He tossed them to Kuja.

“There ya go! I’ll get changed out here.” Zidane proceeded to do so, with Garnet chastising him quietly before shrieking and both giggling. Kuja turned away and gave them the privacy they deserved in their rooms as he got the shorts on. Thank goodness Zidane had given him a pair. There was a tail hole and everything, though he could feel the differences in their anatomical structuring. The hole was a bit too low, the shorts tight and… short. He wondered if there wasn’t another thing he could borrow to go overtop of it.

“Queen Garnet, I don’t mean to be a bother, but do you perchance have something that would fit over this?” Kuja asked, poking his head out and speaking quietly. Zidane went over to check and nodded with a grimace.

“You’re so small,” Kuja said quietly.

“You’ve got big hips,” Zidane shot back.

“Hips. Yes, those are the issue.” Kuja rolled his eyes as Garnet returned with a small black skirt that matched the shorts. He blinked and saw she was in one in orange, though that one was a little longer and fit over a one-piece suit that covered her to the knees anyway.

Kuja put the skirt on with flushed cheeks, his tail flicking in annoyance. Garnet giggled.

“You’re nothing like you used to be.”

“I am very much how I used to be, I just don’t care for killing anymore,” Kuja complained, hoping the skirt would cover him enough. It suited him well, if nothing else. They headed down together.

Most everyone was dressed the same. Mikoto’s swimsuit was more like Terran-style clothing, two pieced and very pink. They all gathered at the moat, which was deep. Kuja didn’t know if Mikoto would be comfortable with it being so deep. And then he saw Beatrix coming along to swim with them. Right. Afternoon guard change.

He got in the water. Zidane cannonballed in and laughed as the splash hit several people. Garnet laughed and got in after him. Mikoto put her feet in the water and took a deep breath. Kuja watched her and moved closer with Zidane. Both of them held a hand out for her. She took them both and left the safety of the stairs, clung to them both tightly.

“That’s it, you’re doing good. You’re doing really good, Miko,” Zidane said. Mikoto nodded and looked at Kuja, then started hyperventilating.

“Mikoto?” Kuja asked.

“Might drown.”

“You won’t drown. Neither will I.” Kuja smiled and caught her attention. “The first step to learning to swim is going under, okay?”

“Okay.” Mikoto held onto them. Kuja put a hand on her shoulder, and Zidane put one on his, prompting Kuja to move his other hand onto Zidane’s shoulder, and, soon enough, they had a triangle going. Then all three dipped beneath the surface together. Kuja took air in and held it. Zidane just went for it. Mikoto stared at him with worry, filling her lungs as much as possible, and finally dipped down beneath with them.

The water of the moat was murky and muddy and all around gross. Kuja decided a bath was in order after this. He looked at Mikoto, who had her eyes shut tight. Zidane giggled when he saw and rose again. The other two followed after.

“There. Not so bad!” Zidane smiled and clapped Mikoto on the shoulder. She grinned and hugged him, then hugged Kuja. Kuja hugged her back.

“We made it,” he said.

“We made it,” Mikoto answered. She giggled and separated from him, then went down on her own. Kuja followed and started swimming away. She tried to catch him, swimming along with uncoordinated limbs. After a few seconds, he surfaced again and Mikoto came up almost on top of him.

“Now to tread water. Ready?” They all helped her with it, getting her limbs to cooperate and hold her up. Once she could do it easily, she started swimming toward one and another. Kuja stayed back a bit as she swam to the others. He then moved closer to her whenever she came his way.

“Don’t go too far, Frére. I can’t swim well,” Mikoto said.

“You’re swimming fine, Mikoto. Just a little more,” Kuja said, swimming away on his back. He held his hands out for Mikoto to reach for, and reach she did, her tail trying its best to assist with the swimming. His own tail arced languidly with his legs. After they had gotten a ways away from the others, Kuja stopped swimming away and let her reach him.

“Look. You made it quite a ways. Why, we’re practically halfway across the lake now,” Kuja said. Mikoto laughed.

“No we’re not! It’s way bigger than this!”

“Oh? Ah, so it seems. Well, one day I expect you’ll be able to swim across it thrice without getting tired,” he said, ruffling her hair. It was the words Garland had used when Kuja had made progress, but the tone and the touch he had always sought.

How sad. How childish of him to want something so silly.

Mikoto smiled brightly and started swimming back. Kuja followed after her easily. Zidane and Beatrix had come chasing after them as Kuja had swum off.

“Mikoto! You made it really far!”

“I did!”

“Are you alright, Miss Mikoto?” Beatrix asked, all soft and caring, the rose of May that Kuja had secretly admired.

Kuja could have laughed at how different the two were. It was really quite adorable. Zidane was like no other in the world, it seemed, and that made him special.

No. Bad thoughts. Don’t go that way, not today.

They left the swimming behind soon after and went back inside to dry and change. Mikoto met up with and played with her friends from the village while the others rested and watched nearby.

“She trusts you,” Freya said. Kuja nodded.

“She does. More than I suppose she ought to, all considered.”

“Agreed.”

“Don’t pull your punches,” Kuja joked. Freya just glared at him. “Would it be easier to handle me if I had lost my memory?”

That was a low blow, one he had and hadn’t intended. Freya’s glare sharpened and she very nearly got up. Only Fratley stayed her hand.

“Don’t incite violence here, Freya,” he said. She sat down and curled up against him.

“I hate him,” she replied. Kuja understood. He looked back toward Mikoto, who was currently blindfolded and trying to catch one of her friends by calling out to them.

“I’ve done just about everything possible to deserve that,” he said quietly. Freya nodded.

After the group had played together, everyone set off in a large group toward the mini-theater that Ruby ran. Kuja just hoped she still believed he was Estienne, but, judging from the fearful glance Zidane had thrown his way, that was no longer true.


	15. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja encounters Ruby again and she knows. This is fun. Later, he asks Cid some questions about the things he's never understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay! i moved and the internet was being incredibly obnoxious, so i wasnt able to get online til now.

Kuja bounced on his feet outside of Ruby’s theater, making Mikoto bounce on his back so she giggled and laughed.

“Zidane, would you mind going ahead of me? If I fall, catch Mikoto,” Kuja said.

“Got it.” Zidane went down the stairs right ahead of Kuja, ready to grab in case he lost his balance. The three of them descended the steps like that.

“You can put me down if the stairs are too much, Frére,” Mikoto said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m your chocobo all day, kweh,” Kuja answered. He did set her down at a table that had been reserved for them. As the others filed in and sat together, Kuja moved to the back of the house, but Mikoto jumped up and grabbed his hand.

“There’s a chair for you, Frére.” She pulled him over to the table. There were four chairs arranged around it. Three were occupied by Mikoto, Zidane, and Garnet. Kuja took the fourth tentatively. He could feel Ruby glaring at him from the bar and resolved not to turn around. Instead, he focused on the stage, where one of Ruby’s own plays was about to start.

It focused on the plights of the working classes against the bourgeois and everyone finding ways to better their lives despite the weight they bore from holding up the entirety of society’s movements. The way it was described, Kuja realized he really did owe his old servants a lot more than he ever paid them. Did they also have to deal with low income affecting their ability just to have a house? How had he never known?

No, he knew how he had never known. He hadn’t cared to know. Everyone would die eventually, and them dying just made Garland happier. Was this still a problem? Did people die from starvation? They must. His attempted slaughter of literally all life wasn’t going to stop people from dying here and now from the old problems.

“ _There’s a lot of money to be made selling weapons.”_ Kuja took a deep breath and tried to focus on the play again as he sipped on whatever drink had landed in front of him. It was alcohol, a smooth blend. He pushed it away quietly, not wanting to get drunk tonight, instead turning to the offered food.

When the play finished, Kuja applauded the actors and saw Lowell Bridges as the lead actor. He had been good.

“Zidane, you would have made a better lead, if only because of your experience in this subject. Is it that way for many people?” Kuja asked quietly. Zidane nodded.

“Yeah. People trying to make a living and the upper classes taking advantage of their desperation.”

“Treno is built on the exploitation of the poor,” Garnet added. “The auction house is an example of that, where the rich go to spend as much as they wish on items to just keep in their houses.”

“More than most would see in a lifetime.” Perhaps he could do something. How to wrest the money away from the rich was the question… He started putting things together in his head.

Mikoto ran up to Ruby and hugged her, then thanked her for putting the play on for her. Apparently, it was one of her personal favorites.

“I’ll try to put one on about a girl who comes from the moon for you, darling,” Ruby said, smiling and tucking some of Mikoto’s hair behind her ear. “Gotta write it first.”

Kuja nearly choked on the water he had gotten. If she wanted some firsthand experience…

“You can ask Frére. He has some experience with coming here. And me too,” Mikoto said. She smiled at the last.

“Frére?” Ruby asked. Mikoto pointed to Kuja, who simply nodded. “Oh. Him.”

Yeah, she definitely knew. Kuja wilted under her sharp gaze and turned away, but he no longer had an appetite for the food before him. Still, he mimed it. Zidane and Garnet noticed right away. Zidane sighed and looked like he was trying to find a solution. Garnet turned back to her food.

Other guests cleared out since the show had finished, talking about it over remains of their meals and drinks or on the way out. The tables were left piled with coin, which Ruby flitted out to handle. Zidane dropped some on their table and met with Mikoto before heading out with the others. Kuja stayed behind for a moment.

He stood at the table. His mind was alight with things he could say or should say or might say, but none of it seemed right. He could feel her eyes on him again, staring as sharply as before. He turned away from her.

“Well? Everyone’s waiting for you upstairs,” Ruby said, a hand on her hip.

“I know. I…” Kuja turned around and faced her. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”

“You don’t even know what you did!”

“I killed them. Your parents,” he said awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

“You have no idea how it feels!”

“Not from personal experience, but…” But if he lost Zidane or Mikoto…

“Just shut it. What could a monster like you possibly understand?” Ruby demanded. Kuja didn’t answer.

“I want to understand. As night turns to day—“

“Don’t try some poetic bull on me and expect it to get you anywhere!”

“Please! Please… let me tell you?” Kuja asked.

“Why?”

“Because the way I am now is different from how I once was.”

“And how is that!? You’re not a killer anymore? You don’t tear families apart for fun? You being around Mikoto makes me nervous and I will not hesitate to put you down if it comes to that,” Ruby said angrily. Kuja stepped back and put his hands up.

“I understand.” He turned and went to the stairs, then turned back once more. “If I ever become a danger to her, please make good on that promise.”

Then he left just as Ruby chucked a bottle at him. It smashed against the doorframe and sent him skittering up the stairs.

“What happened?” Zidane asked.

“A mistake. Let’s go before she decides to make good on her promise.” Kuja picked up Mikoto and choco’d out of there quickly.

“Promise?”

“To kill me if you’re in danger,” Kuja said. Mikoto tried to get him to turn around so she could talk to Ruby, but Kuja adamantly refused.

“Frére, we can’t just leave things like this!”

“We can and we will. I doubt very much she would want to hear what I have to say.” He kept onward toward the castle.

“What do you want to say?” Garnet asked.

“I wanted to tell her what’s become of me since I was last around.”

“Why would you bring that up?”

“I killed her parents.”

“Oh, of course he did,” Freya muttered. Hildagarde sighed and put a hand on Freya’s shoulder.

“Why? When?” Zidane asked.

“It was the day I dropped you in Lindblum. I was happy at having successfully gotten rid of you, so I... celebrated.”

“You didn’t! For that?” Garnet asked, incredulous.

“I was an Angel of Death. I was going to kill them one day regardless, so I thought. I didn’t care at all that Ruby survived.” Kuja sighed and fought back tears.

“And now?” Zidane asked.

“I’m glad I didn’t kill her with them. Despite the horrid things I’ve done, there are survivors. I wasn’t as good an Angel of Death as I was meant to be.” Kuja ran a hand through his hair, then gripped it tightly before letting go again. Zidane put a hand on his shoulder. Mikoto held his other hand. Both of them smiled reassuringly at him.

“You’re not alone,” Zidane said.

“We’re all failures at being Angels of Death, and I prefer it this way,” Mikoto added. “Cuz now I get to have my brothers with me and not have to worry about them.”

“I prefer things this way, as well.” Kuja flushed a bit from embarrassment, then grabbed his siblings and pulled them close to him, snuggling them both at once. “You two…!”

“Love ya, Frére.”

“Love you, Kuja.”

“I…”

“Take your time. Love is weird,” Zidane said.

“Yeah.” Kuja just hugged them again and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I want to make a request of you. All of you.”

The others listened closely, wondering what the world’s most hated man wanted of them.

“I need to become someone better for the future. I don’t know how. Can you help me? Will you?” Kuja asked, turning to them all, looking first to Amarant.

“If I have to,” he said. Cid nodded.

“Despite everything, I have learned that people only become better if they are given the chance. Without your previous circumstances, I think you’ll become a fine young man.”

Kuja could feel Zidane grinning at his side. Garnet rolled her eyes playfully and smiled briefly at Kuja, ice in her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

“You killed my mothers and threatened my people. If there’s any chance of reforming you, I’ll take it for Zidane’s sake.”

“You’ve already helped me more than enough, Queen Garnet,” Kuja said, bowing gracefully. Never let it be said he couldn’t play nice with royalty. The elephant lady was an exception and only in private.

Garnet raised an eyebrow at the display. Kuja was always so… guarded. She wondered if any of his acting had sincerity behind it or if he was being sincere at all. Still, both Zidane and Mikoto were precious to her and willing to give him a chance, and, aside from the fireball incident a couple nights ago, she had no reason to believe this Kuja before her was a threat. She tried to divide old Kuja from new Kuja.

She only hoped the others might do the same. As charming as Zidane was, Garnet was certain that they didn’t feel so strongly for supporting him in all of his endeavors. How many of them had jumped into the bowels of the Iifa Tree after him?

Kuja could see she was conflicted and hoped he would be able to win her over sometime soon. Mikoto finally hopped off his back, taking his hand again.  
  


“Frére. You have a lot to try to make up for, but I think you’re going in the right direction here.”

“Thank you, Mikoto.” It did him some good to know she supported him. Zidane nodded.

“We’ll figure things out for you regardless,” he said. “Maybe we can hide you in Madain Sari.”

“No. I’d rather he not be in my ancestral homeland if it can be helped,” Garnet said. Kuja nodded, a bit shocked she was so forthright but not surprised at what she said.

“I understand. I won’t touch it.” Good thing he had been stopped by Mikoto that time. Garnet might have actually killed him if he went to Madain Sari to learn more from its wall.

The others seemed on edge with the conversation.

“Mikoto,” Kuja said, turning to her. “Is there anything else to do today?”

“Hm… We had dinner here and I got to play with my friends… I don’t think so?”

“Are you sure~?” Kuja asked, winking at Zidane. Zidane grinned and turned to Garnet, who smiled and nodded.

“There’s one more surprise waiting for you at the castle. Let’s go!” She led the way. Kuja chocoboed once again. Freya was still regarding him with caution, stayed close and talked to Mikoto, never let the two of them out of her sight. Fratley held her hand. It felt more like he was staying her blade.

Kuja wondered how many of those present had ever felt like they were in constant danger like this when in the presence of another. He then remembered the time he had locked them all in cages and dangled them over lava.

Nevermind. It must have been horrifying for them to have to entertain his presence, knowing all he did. Kuja tried to ignore the thought, but his past loomed over them all like a specter, unrelenting in its reminders and sadistic in how it teased him with what it said.

_Never. Never belong, never be needed._

He pushed it away.

When they reached the castle, Kuja let Mikoto down so she could sit at the table. They brought out a large cake that would have far too many slices for them to all eat — unless Quina was allowed a solid go at it. One by one, everyone presented their gifts to her.

Kuja handed her the one he had gotten with the chain and gears.

“Ooh, I can implement this into experimental pieces!” Mikoto grinned and showed it to Cid, who smiled brightly. She adored the hodgepodge of things that Zidane had gotten her, more gears and chains and cranks and levers and buttons and some axles. Cid completed their machinery cluster with a box that could be made to have any number of functions, depending on how the insides and outsides were arranged.

The smile on her face was bright beyond the sun and stars as the others presented their tokens. Amarant gave her a new pair of leather gloves that Lani had enchanted to be heat-resistant. Freya had a collapsible staff with a grabbing claw at the end and promised to come to teach her some dragoon stuff once things in Burmecia had settled more. Quina’s gift was the cake itself, in her favorite flavor and topped with cherries all along it.

Garnet, Beatrix, and Steiner got her toys. Eiko got her a dollhouse and more dolls for it.

“Thank you all! I love these so much~” Mikoto hugged the dolls to her as Quina served up the cake for her to eat. She adored it.

Kuja felt something inside of him that he had never felt before. Perhaps there had been a twinge of this once upon a time, but it was strong now, watching her light up. He was happy, all fuzzy inside and warm, and there was pride, and he didn’t feel so lonely when she looked over at him, and more than that, he… he felt _content._

He’d kill and die for her.

Eventually, they all got tired and started off toward their rooms. Kuja realized that Cid might have an idea of what this was. He took a deep breath as Mikoto made her own way to her room, then approached the older man and tugged on his sleeve, feeling like a child as he did so.

“May I speak to you privately for a moment?” he asked quietly. Cid blinked and nodded. Hildagarde went on ahead.

“Don’t you dare try to harm him,” she said.

“You have my full permission to make me an oglop if I do,” Kuja replied with a flourishing bow. He chuckled and moved toward one side of the hallway.

“What is this about?” Cid asked once they were alone.

“I… I’m experiencing emotions for the first time in my life. Deeply, I ought to say. I’ve always been emotional but now it’s… different.” Kuja ran a hand through his hair and looked to Cid, totally lost on how to even approach this sort of conversation. Cid nodded.

“Mikoto has explained in detail how genomes are. She also mentioned how you came to be, in the end. When I heard what happened, I thought you sounded like a child, lost and scared and looking for the approval of his father.”

Kuja did _not_ need it spelled out like that. “Y—“ He cleared his throat and tried to keep the tears back. “That is accurate.”

Cid put a hand on his shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. “Kuja. You swear to be a better person than you once were?”

“I do. I need help. I–“ He choked off. He hated admitting he was weak, even now. “I can’t do this alone.”

“No one can. Now, what did you need this time?”

Kuja refocused himself. It was easy around Cid. “I… I think I might love Mikoto? But…”

“But?”

“What is love?”

“Ah, the eternal question. Love is many things and comes in many forms. The Summoners split it into 8 forms: eros, a romantic and passionate love; philia, an affectionate love between friends; storge, a protective and familiar love, one often seen between parents and children; mania, obsessive love, complete with stalking, violence, codependency, and more.”

Kuja pursed his lips at that one. Cid nodded. “A dangerous one, along with eros, which can dull the mind in favor of the body’s wants.”

“That sounds wretched.”

“It certainly can be. Eros nearly destroyed my marriage. There is also ludus, a playful, young love, as one would see in a new couple; pragma, a love based on commitment and collaboration. It’s patient and tolerant. Philautia is a self-love, one which affects how we love others. If we love ourselves, it is easy to extend that to others, and love extended can be reciprocated or ignite philautia in someone else.”

“You’re saying that, if one person loves someone who doesn’t love themself, then that second person can come to love themself?”

“Precisely, because you begin to see the good inside yourself.” Cid poked Kuja’s heart and smiled kindly.

“That’s only 7 kinds of love.”

“The last one is agape, unconditional love, one which extends beyond ourselves and our social circles. Not everyone experiences agape, but those who do see the world in a beautiful light. It extends to strangers, to nature, to all things around us.”

_Ridiculous,_ Kuja said. Even so, he wondered at it. “I could almost see Zidane’s friends representing these forms, in one way or another.”

“That is entirely possible.” Cid chuckled.

“Then, I do love Mikoto. She’s my sister and I want the best for her. Thank you, Regent Cid.” Kuja smiled, somewhat at peace now that he understood what had happened in his heart just minutes ago.

“Enjoy your time in Burmecia. I think, once you have finished up with Freya, you ought to come to Lindblum and learn from Eiko. She’s a spitfire and not afraid to tell you exactly how she feels. You can learn a lot from her rambunctious side.”

“Thank you. I’ll do that.”

Kuja retired to his room. He bathed, primped his hair, snuggled himself into a fluffy bathrobe and silently complimented Garnet’s choices. He had never had a fluffy bathrobe when Brahne was in power. Stupid elephant lady.

Oh, was that immature? Did that count as immature. Kuja sat on the edge of his bed before getting up again to change into sleeping clothes. The shirt and pants were loose and comfy, and at that moment, that was all he wanted. He lay down in his bed and pulled the comforter up over his shoulders, snuggled it to his chin.

Quina was definitely eros. Their passion for cooking and eating seemed innocent, but Kuja had seen Qus swallow other creatures whole for the experimentation of having done it, and you don’t pick up **Death** from Fangs. Amarant was probably obsessive love, or maybe that was Eiko. The exercise of assigning them different forms of love and discussing the matter with himself proved to be a pleasant thing that kept his mind off of himself.

Philautia, self-love. Perhaps that was Quina. It wasn’t him. Kuja could admit, only to himself, in his head, in the dark of his room when he was alone, that he didn’t love what he was.

How was he meant to be able to?

Eventually, he did fall asleep, and when he did, Vivi shook his shoulder.

“You’re having a time. Things are sinking in bit by bit, huh?”

“That they are. What are you doing here?”

“You asked for my help, and you’re asking my friends, too, so I’m here to do what I can.” Vivi hopped up onto the bed and turned to Kuja, careful to keep his shoes off of it. Kuja silently applauded his care for the comforter.

“Even though I’m a monster?”

“Even though you’re a monster. I saw everything when your memories touched the crystal. Whatever force decided to put them back musta seen the same thing I did.”

“’Musta’? You speak like Zidane.”

“He was right there with me during most of my life.”

“Right. How could I have forgotten?” Of course Zidane was the one there the whole time.

“Anyway, I think you could do really good things for this world. Maybe nothing world-turning or nothing that changes stuff, but some things could go real well because of you.”

“Based on what? I’ve done nothing so far.”

“Nothing that you know of. You did a lot of good stuff by accident.”

“Name one.”

“You made me. And you got Zidane away from Garland. Even though it started bad, you made it so Amarant and Lani met and got to know each other. You changed a lot of lives, and some of them just a little for the better.”

“You’re insane,” Kuja said.

“Probably. But I’m also dead, so it’s not like I can’t be.”

“Is there more to this visit?”

“Yes. Do what you can for who you can. I think you’ll get some good chances in Burmecia. Keep an eye out and remember what you’re capable of.” With that, Vivi hopped off the bed. “It’s time for you to go back to sleep here. Morning is coming.”

“Wait! That’s too vague! Give me more direction!”

“I can’t. You have to forge your own path. I can only give you a little help.” Vivi opened the door to his room and looked back. “Kuja? Do you think, if the circumstances were different, we could have been friends?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now he gets to move from the frying pan to the fire hah.


	16. Distrust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja makes it to Burmecia

The next morning, Kuja had his few clothes packed once again in his backpack, as well as food and water for the road. Zidane stood at the castle gate with him, Garnet, Steiner, Mikoto, Fratley, and Freya. The others were also gathered to say goodbye, but Kuja didn’t particularly care.

“Now, are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” Zidane asked.

“I’m sure,” Kuja said.

“Don’t get taken in by strangers, try to smile, be friendly, and most importantly, don’t exhaust yourself in the middle of nowhere like you did in the alleyway before,” Zidane said.

“Thank you for your confidence,” Kuja said. Zidane stood on his toes and reached up to pat Kuja, who bent down obligingly before finding himself in a sneak hug. Mikoto ran over and joined in, leading him to laugh.

“You two, honestly.” He rubbed their heads and smiled warmly. Part of him was happy they cared about him. Part of him was annoyed and maybe even a little upset that they were wasting energy on him.

“Don’t get into trouble out there, okay?” Mikoto said.

“I won’t. I’m a powerful magician.”

“With terrible defense.”

Kuja papped her again. Ouch. Freya snickered behind her sleeve.

“We should get going. The airship is going to leave soon,” she said. The trio set off through the town with their friends waving behind them.

“Freya? May I pose a question to you?”

“Shoot,” she said.

“What is love?”

She stopped in the middle of the street and stared at him. “What?”

“I’m attempting to understand the concept of love better than I have before. Regent Cid gave me an understanding of it that was more of a clinical analysis based on definitions of words, but that hardly denotes the feelings attached to it.”

“Zidane described you as a child. You really are one, aren’t you?” Freya asked.

“Hardly.” Kuja scoffed. “What person truly understands love as an objective truth? By collecting the ideas of subjectivity from others, I can discern my own ideas of it and thus ascertain how I would prefer love.”

“There is no preference aside from what feels right,” Fratley said. He put a hand on Kuja’s shoulder. “We can only give others time and attention, that love may bloom between them.”

“Is that right?” Helpful, but not if he was going to approach this properly.

“Love is often unexplainable. It’s like trying to quantify the mass of every star in the sky.”

“The mass of suns decreases steadily.”

“And counter to that, love increases steadily like a river overflowing its banks,” Freya said. And how! What an interesting turn of phrase. Kuja turned it over in his head. Of course, to quantify that which existed best in poetry and song could prove a truly impossible endeavor, but to consider it in terms of metaphors…

“I see. Thank you.” He smiled, a genuine smile — though no less scary for what it might entail.

“What are you thinking about?” Freya asked.

“About rivers overflowing, Faithful Knight.” Ah, to be returned to what he once was. It felt like a part of him had come home, using metaphors. How could he have forgotten this part of himself? Come to think of it, was he missing other memories? Aside from knowing he was on a dragon and then doing… something in a lab, he could hardly remember how he came back, and who knew what was missing from before that?

“You sound like you did before,” she mused.

“And all the better for it. I feel more complete.” And more incomplete as he became aware of missing pieces. Freya hmphed at that and left it as they made it to the airship and boarded for Burmecia. It was a small craft of similar size to the airship that had brought Kuja from the outer ports to the castle in the first place.

“Hold on tight,” Fratley said. The ship started moving and he almost fell over.

_High center of gravity,_ Kuja thought to himself, chuckling a bit. Freya kept Fratley on his feetley and made sure he didn’t fall over.

“It’s a day’s journey to Burmecia,” Fratley said.

“Even with the ship?” It had taken Kuja hours to get there, himself, back in the day. What a ridiculous world. It felt so tiny at times, everything being so within reach.

It was almost enough to make him long for the days when Gaia was beyond a portal and only accessed during missions.

“Do you miss flying?” Freya asked. Kuja blinked. There was discordance in her voice and actions, but the question itself was cordial.

“I do. I can barely remember the last time I just enjoyed a flight.”

“Against the Alexandrian fleet? Or while on your way to Memoria?”

“Neither. I more anticipated what was to come in both instances, but my enjoyment of flying was from after I was exiled to Gaia.”

“Exiled?” Fratley asked.

“Ah, you don’t know everything. I kidnapped and removed Zidane from the planet Terra and got thrown out of my home for the effort. Shame.” Kuja sighed and shrugged. “Flying on my silvers was a great joy for me.”

“What about the Nova Dragon?”

“She stayed on Terra until I convinced Garland to hand me the dragon fleet. After that, she stayed hidden until I bade her come forth that final time to defend the portal. It’s in the past. She’s dead. There are no more silver dragons.”

“There was a sighting of one around Conde Petie just some weeks ago, and a year before that flying from the Iifa Tree to the Desert Palace,” Freya said, looking at him.

“My, you certainly do have all the details, don’t you? Is there more?”

“It was holding you.”

It lined up. “I am aware that I was on a dragon. I cannot say how it came to be, as I had thought them all killed off by Alexandria and Lindblum.”

“You really don’t remember?”

“I was between life and death. My memory of the time is hazy. Just about everything before that is clear as crystal,” Kuja said. Freya tightened her grip on the bulwark. Kuja raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes.

“Relax, honestly. I’m not going to seek out the Origin Crystal.”

“You better not. I’ll hunt you down myself if you do.”

“Please do. Now that I have finally found a reason to live and a great deal of value for the people around me which I previously lacked, anything I do that would bring grievous harm is something I welcome opposition to.”

Freya stared at him and found no dishonesty in what he said. “You really never had value for anyone aside from yourself?”

“That’s right. No one but me,” Kuja said, smirking and shrugging. He ignored the pang in his heart. Weird how that thing actually did hurt when things hurt emotionally.

“And now you do.”

“Which is why I’m asking for help to become a better person. I… never learned how.”

“Because you learned to be an Angel of Death.”

“Precisely. I was a better life form than all the rest, even the rest of the genomes. It was only when I was losing my own life that I realized what I had stolen from so many. How horrible, to only know then…” Kuja shook himself out of his reverie. “Regardless, what’s done is done, and I am alive when they are not. Thus, I take it upon myself to do what I can for those who survived me.”

Fratley put his hand on Kuja’s shoulder. Kuja could have sworn he recognized this guy, now that he was looking at him up close, but he couldn’t quite place him.

“That is an admirable dream. Had it only come sometime sooner.”

Kuja nodded and looked out to the world below. They were leaving the now-unpetrified Evil Forest behind and sailing further along toward Burmecia. Freya kept an eye on him as he turned to his thoughts. Fratley wandered off.

After some time, somewhere around the north gate, Freya approached once more. She slapped a hand on Kuja’s collar and Kuja realized how tall she was when her hand easily reached it. Interesting. How had he not noticed before?

“Making sure you don’t run off,” Freya said.

“Understandable. What of your boyfriend? Are you sure he won’t run?”

“No, he won’t.”

“I recognize him. I can’t say why.”

“Perhaps you ran into him randomly, as you did Ruby’s parents.”

Kuja hummed and looked at the man. He had never seen him in Treno, that much was certain. Then where…?

He remembered where in a flash, seeing Fratley look at him from a distance.

“I know him. He witnessed an attack I performed myself. I was sick of dealing with bodies and blood, so I…” Did she know?

“So you what? Stole his memory?”

“Locked it away. As much as I could manage in the moment. Given my power, I wouldn’t be surprised if he lost all of it.”

“He forgot me,” Freya said. Her voice was hard. Seeing how the two acted around each other, it didn’t surprise Kuja in the least. He just nodded and looked once more toward Fratley.

“How much time left until we arrive in Burmecia? Will he be needed right away?”

They passed into the dark of the North Gate.

“No. Why?”

“Because I can undo the spell. I am the one who cast it. Even in my weakened state, I can do that much.”

“Can you?”

“Yes.” Kuja feared what Fratley would think, once he remembered who Kuja was and where they had last encountered one another. For all Fratley had said, for all he had experienced, he, himself, had only had that one meeting with Kuja and thus little to no association of him beyond that. It was a terrifying thought that this person who was willing to blindly believe in him would forsake him as soon as his memory returned.

But it had to be done. Kuja had to make reparations somehow.

“I’ll tell him.” Freya waited until they were through and able to see again before approaching Fratley to tell him the news. Fratley smiled visibly and waved Kuja over.

“So, you are able to restore my memory for me? Freya said that you noticed it had been stolen by a magician nearly as powerful as yourself. You can really undo it?”

“It may take some doing, but yes, I can.” Had Freya tried to erase the truth? Was she also worried about that possibility? A person could know their reactions to certain things, but when pushed to the limit, pushed to or past breaking, things tended to change drastically. “Shall we go belowdecks to start? Or would you prefer to wait until we’ve landed?”

“Why don’t we wait until after we land? Then I can be sure that I will not have to be carried off,” Fratley said. Kuja nodded. They drifted across the expanse of land and turned slowly. He could just see the Vube Desert off in the distance, though there was little evidence of there ever having been a settlement out there.

“How many came home to Burmecia during the rebuilding?” he asked Freya.

“Most of them. Some have settled into other places as I did,” she said.

“I see.” Well, that meant a lot of people who would know who he was and what he did. That was… unfortunate. It was also expected. Kuja steeled himself for the next part.

They landed in the evening and departed right around dinner. Freya handed a spare coat to Kuja, who covered his face and used magic to dye his tail back to blond.

Back…? What was he forgetting? Something…

Anyway, she got him through town without anyone recognizing him.

“I already sent word ahead that you would be entering town. People are uneasy,” she noted. Kuja nodded and drew the cloak closer around him. He did not want to be seen at this precise moment.

They made it to Freya and Fratley’s shared home. Kuja stepped inside and stayed close to the door as the two of them settled back in. He let the hood down, then threw it back up when a couple people passed the door.

“Come inside,” Fratley said, holding his hand out. Kuja skittered over. Freya couldn’t help but note the difference between the man he showed himself to be on the ship and now. Both felt honest in different ways. She realized that Kuja was finally feeling how everyone else felt when he came round: fucking terrified.

Kuja sat at the table and eyed the windows nervously. “I never realized how it would feel to return here.”

“You did destroy it,” Freya said tersely. Fratley started some tea.

“That you did. We will never get those people back,” Fratley said.

“I know,” Kuja said, sighing. He put his head in his hands. “What am I doing here?”

“You’re learning the extent of what you did,” Freya said. “We’re going to eat and sleep here tonight, and then tomorrow, I’ll be leading you on a tour of Burmecia City.”

“Understood,” Kuja said quietly. Fratley set a cup of tea down in front of him.

“Don’t worry. The past is past. You can do something now.”

“I am aware. Everyone says it, often in the same breath they call me a monster.” Well, maybe not really, but it was close enough. Fratley patted him.

“One day, you’ll no longer be known as one.”

“You don’t know me,” Kuja said. “It’s what I was built for.”

“And? Was Zidane not also made to be an Angel of Death? As I recall, his kill count is still 0, as is your sister’s. You no longer have to be what you once were. It sounds empty, but I believe it.”

Kuja nodded. Freya set to making dinner. He hadn’t ever expected her, of all people, to be capable of such a simple thing. How silly of him.

Then again, he was also not capable of such a simple thing. Kuja found himself looking at what Freya was doing the entire time, wanting to understand more of this skill. Mikoto found it easy enough, so it couldn’t be impossible.

Still, watching from a distance made it difficult to understand. He didn’t want to get any closer while Freya had a knife equipped. Fratley noticed him watching and started narrating what she was doing and why.

“This is beef stew. She’s cubing the meat to put into a pot of boiling water. It will roast and cook through there while she gathers the other ingredients to put in. See her putting spices in. Those will make it taste better. And now she’s slicing up lots of vegetables to add to it and make it delicious.”

Kuja watched him, a little unnerved by the running commentary. Freya glanced back at them briefly before focusing on her work. It was plain to see on Fratley’s face how much he adored Freya when she was cooking. That was also somewhat unsettling.

“Now the stew will simmer over the fire until it’s ready to be eaten,” Fratley said. Kuja looked over at Freya as she joined them and their tea at the table.

“Thank you for this. For putting me up in your home and cooking for me — and also for not killing me just yet.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t like you being in my house, but Zidane is a good friend of mine and I don’t want to disappoint him, even on this.” Freya sipped her tea.

“You’re more tolerable than he is,” Kuja said. “Quieter and less… energetic.”

Freya raised an eyebrow, but he could see a laugh forming in her throat. “Don’t insult him.”  
  


“I have read plenty of books with siblings. It’s my duty as his older brother to insult and embarrass him wherever possible,” Kuja said. He hmphed and sipped. Fratley chuckled.

“As long as you also defend him when the time comes.”

“Yes, of course. That is the other side of it.”  
  


“But why?” Freya asked.

“Why what?”

“Why consider Zidane to be your brother?”

“He considers me his.”

“And?”

“And what?” Kuja asked. “Speak your mind, please.”

“I don’t believe you’d really reciprocate what someone feels just because they feel it. You’re a narcissistic man who spent his entire life incapable of deep emotions that didn’t revolve around himself. How did you change so much in such a short time?” Freya asked.

Kuja set his teacup down on the table and put his shaking hands in his lap.

“I died. I don’t remember things. Parts of me… they’re just gone, but I do remember how I felt right at the end. Everything I did, everyone I hurt.” He could see flashes of the villages he had massacred, of the random people he had offed, of Bahamut, of the fleet, of Burmecia. “I remember all of that. And I remember Zidane being there at the end. He was the only one who was ever really there for me. I want to be able to return that, somehow.”

Kuja’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. It felt strange to be vulnerable, and his heart was racing a mile a minute, like he was teetering on the edge about to fall into the abyss.

Fratley smiled at him. Freya sighed and a small smile graced her face. Suddenly, Kuja was awash with relief until Freya had her spear at his throat.

“Don’t think for a moment I won’t run you through if you mess up again.”

“Understood,” Kuja said. He put his hands up. “I… I am somewhat glad that you all defeated me before. While it would have been nice to succeed at the time, I think I’m understanding why it was a bad idea — on more than a logical scale.”

Freya narrowed her eyes, then put the spear away. “Good.”

They sat in relative silence with some small talk until the stew was ready. Then Freya doled it out and settled in to eat. Kuja ate quietly, carefully, not wanting to upset either of them at this moment. The last time he had been in Burmecia, it had been raining, like the gods themselves had cried at the defeat. A warm evening sun washed in through the window.

“Burmecia is a pleasant place. I never visited much, but I did always like the architecture. Has it changed much?”

“Several streets were widened. Many of our buildings have new additions, courtesy of the builders of other nations,” Fratley said.

“Cleyra gave us a lot of help,” Freya said. “The survivors, that is, and those who were willing to return.”

“Return? Ah, the diaspora.” Maybe he could hunt down — find. Find. — those who had disappeared and assure them that it was now safe to come home. No. That was a really bad idea. He was precisely the person not to do that job.

“Yes,” Fratley said. He ate the stew happily. “Freya, your cooking is always so marvelous.”

“I originally learned from you,” she said, blushing. Kuja couldn’t help but smile at their display of affection. It was nice. He wanted to return the memories Fratley was missing.

His reputation in the eyes of this man was not as important as the things he and Freya had once done together.

Kuja nearly choked on the carrot in his mouth at that thought. How had he come to this point!? Out of nowhere, all of a sudden, without _prompting_ , he wanted to do something nice. Zidane would be proud. Mikoto would be proud.

He was okay with this.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said. He supposed it was technically true and kept eating. “It really is good. Not Treno quality by far, but much better than what I grew up with.”

“What did you grow up with?”

“Completely tasteless, made to be useful and perfectly balanced to the nutritional needs of the body.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Freya chuckled.

“Mikoto loves it when Quina comes to visit her for the same reason.”

“She did mention she had been making plain sandwiches for herself until Quina intervened.”

“Evidently Quina was also the reason that the genomes love to make food for themselves. She revolutionized their culinary arts in a single week,” Freya said.

“Good. It would have suited me given my state of mind, but for Mikoto, I’d want better.”

“How did you two get so close, anyway?” Freya asked.

“Two long trips across the desert. And I broke down crying in front of her. I felt safe enough to do so, I think. That, and she’s adorable,” Kuja said. He chuckled drily and ate a piece of beef.

“That she is,” Fratley said.

Once dinner was over, Kuja helped to wash the dishes. “I can do the memory spell anywhere, but, as it will tax you, it would be best if you were laying down in your bed.”

“I’m sure I can handle it in the living space,” Fratley said.

“Allow me to reword that. It’d be more convenient for Freya not to have to drag your body across the floor because you’re too dizzy to function properly.”

“… Let us withdraw to the bedroom, then,” Fratley said. Kuja nodded and followed him inside. Freya did, as well, worried a good amount considering what was just said.

  
Fratley sat on the bed. Kuja pulled up a chair beside him and put his hands on either side of Fratley’s head.

“One wrong move, Kuja,” Freya said, leveling her spear at him.

“I do plan to live awhile longer, dear Jumper.” Kuja smiled and turned back to his work, focusing his energy on the spell he had cast. It came off with a little pop between his hands, though he doubted either of the other two even noticed.

“It’ll be a cascade,” Kuja said. Fratley nodded, then fainted and fell back onto the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop, off it goes, like a cork on a dam. comments appreciated~ keysmashes appreciated~


	17. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuja attempts to be a helpful person. Freya considers him.

All they could do for awhile was wait until Fratley awoke. Kuja sat still as Freya adjusted him on the bed before sitting between Fratley’s prone form and Kuja.

“I won’t attack him while he’s like this.”

“But you would attack him?” Freya asked.

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I know you’re not likely to believe me, but I really don’t mean harm to anyone anymore. It was a mistake back then, as well, one I hadn’t realized until death.”

“You didn’t realize what it meant to have and lose life until it was _your_ life you were losing?”

“Right.”

“Pathetic.”

“I know.” He knew now. Having it said like that definitely put things in the open for him.

“Do you?”

“Somewhat. I’m still learning the intricacies. I suppose I don’t really know what it means to be alive, in certain ways.” It was some line, something to feed her. Kuja tried to quickly sort through what he thought and felt so he could be honest, but the faster he tried, the more tangled everything became. Freya was staring at him.

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying.”

“You caught me,” Kuja said, raising his hands in defeat.

“Why do you still lie?”

“I doubt you would understand.”

“Try me.”

“It’s a reflex to give automatic responses, to say what one may wish to hear. It offends some and hurts others when I get it wrong.”

“Being dishonest here is the wrong move,” Freya said. She put one leg up over the other and relaxed her spear. Kuja relaxed at the same time.

“In all honesty, I really don’t know what it means to be alive. I know how to live and live well, how to cheat and manipulate to get to the top, how to carve a place that others are willing to cede. However, even when I was living it, that life felt as shallow as I was.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And now what? What do you want?”

“If I knew that, I certainly wouldn’t be where the people detest me.”

The two of them stared at each other. Freya narrowed her eyes and sighed. Fratley stirred, causing both of them to look over at him in anticipation.

“Fratley? How are you feeling?”

“I feel… better than I have in a long time. I remember things now. I remember you.” Fratley took Freya’s hands and kissed them, then pulled her into a hug. Kuja decided to exit before the moment was ruined.

He waited out in the kitchen as the two of them rebonded over lost memories for an hour. Then Fratley came out to see him.

“Kuja, I can’t thank you enough for —“ He stopped dead in his tracks. The moment had come. Kuja stood and started backing toward the door. He wasn’t gonna stick around if he was about to be killed.

“It was you. You killed them,” Fratley said, shaking. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

He had been thinking on that, too. Zidane, Ruby, Fratley, Lani. Why?

“I… It’s more of a story than I wish to share.” Kuja backed up further toward the door, grabbed his cloak, then opened the door and skittered out to freedom. He drew the cloak around him and stalked away into the night, moving quickly like a fugitive in the dramas. He supposed, in a way, he was. Horrid.

“Wait! Come back!” Fratley called. He looked back to Freya, who shrugged. Then he gave chase. Kuja flew. Fratley jumped. One of them calculated the distance and skills involved correctly to swing things the way they wanted and that person was not Kuja, who was tackled mid-flight by a giant rat and brought to earth softly.

“If you’re going to kill me… I don’t know if I should be selfish and ask for a quick death or take my bows on a slow death I owe my victims.”

“Enough of that. I have seen what you once did, but I also see you now. I know a good face when I see one, and you have one. There’s still a sneer and a smirk, but genuine affection and a wish to survive underneath,” Fratley said, holding Kuja’s arm. “I don’t want to see that snuffed out like so many others.”

Kuja searched Fratley’s face for any sign of deception and found none. Not even a tiny bit. “Why?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

“Mikoto would be upset.”

“Does that work for you?”

“I tried to drown myself. Seeing how broken she was when she discovered the attempt… In a way, it would be accurate to say that that cured me of wanting to die. My life had never had meaning for someone else.” Kuja’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Your creator?”

“I was only a tool to him, cast out easily when he decided.” He hated how his voice cracked and stuttered over the words.

Fratley let his arm go. “Come back inside. It’s late, and you must be exhausted.”

“As you must also be, Sir Fratley.”

They went back into the house. Kuja was provided a jacket for the next day and some more sleeping clothes, which he changed into. He could just make out Freya and Fratley’s voices in the next room and smiled quietly when he caught a kind word between them, both reminiscing more over his lost memories.

The next morning, Kuja was up bright and early. Freya took him around the city. They visited the streets, seeing the remnants of both Cleyra and Burmecia aiding one another happily. It lightened his heart somewhat to see it, glad that both sides had once again reunited. It had made him laugh before that war had torn them apart so.

“You being a common enemy brought us back together,” Freya said.

“Is that meant to make me feel better?”

“Does it make you feel better?”

“Not particularly. I would prefer now to do it like Lindblum with their airships, ending a war by bringing peace, bringing people together… somehow.” He sighed. “What a fool I was.”

“Zidane told us what happened. I think you acted as best you could, though there were some moments when I questioned what was going on with you,” Freya said.

“Is that so? Like when?”

“Mostly moments where it seemed like, instead of thinking rationally, you let things get to your head and had a more difficult time because you didn’t plan.”

Kuja grimaced. That was certainly true. “I was too naive back then,” he said.

“A year ago? We all grow and learn. You…”

“While I’ve been afforded that chance, there are hundreds here who suffered and died because of me who should have had that chance first,” Kuja said. Freya nodded.

“Regardless, you’re here now. I warned the others that you would be coming. I doubt they’ll be happy to see you.”

“Others?” Kuja asked. He soon found out who she meant as they approached an area that was still in shambles. Of course. With the rain sogging up wood and slowing the quarrying of stone for the buildings, it was slow progress to get things done around here. He looked up at the rain. Somehow, he had always assumed that it was because of the Mist. Could it just be a weather phenomenon?

“Why does it always rain here?”

“I have no idea,” Freya said. She approached the others with their building. Kuja stood back and waved as she introduced him and promised he would behave himself.

“I know what he did, and I would also prefer he still be dead. The problem is that he’s here now. We may as well make use of him,” Freya said.

“With the building? He’ll make the buildings badly so they’ll crush more people,” one protested.

“I won’t, I promise,” Kuja said, realizing that that was worthless. He put his hands up in surrender. The others grumbled and glared at him. One cast about for a task for him.

“Get this wheelbarrow out of the city. The stones inside are too broken to be salvaged,” he said. Kuja nodded. The wheelbarrow in question was filled to the brim. He considered his chances. They were slim. Even so, he had been tasked with something and must see it through.

He took the wheelbarrow by its handles and tried to lift, having great difficulty already. There had to be some way…

“Hah! What use is he going to be if he can’t lift a single barrow of rocks?”

Kuja cast a light float spell and got the back end to lift itself. Perfect. Now to push… Much easier.

“How in the hell!?”

“Kuja?” Freya asked.

“Float spell over the stands and the back of the wheelbarrow,” Kuja said. “Is it alright for me to use my magic?”

“Don’t get out of control with it,” Freya said, watching him like a hawk. Kuja moved easily across the city with the rocks and took them outside. There, he found someone also dumping rubble and did the same. The Burmecian looked at him curiously for a moment.

“This is where we dump it, yes?”

“Yes. Who are you — I know you.”

“Ask Freya,” Kuja said, pointing to her. She had followed to make sure he would be okay. The Burmecian did ask, and looked at him, then at Freya, then a glare thrown Kuja’s way. Kuja dumped the rocks and took the wheelbarrow back, moving quickly. No doubt there was plenty more to move. Besides, sticking around where he wasn’t wanted wasn’t something he wanted to do, so getting this handled so he could disappear was his top priority.

Plenty more glances were thrown his way, all angry, some scared. He just kept moving where directed and kept his eyes down. If he kept them down, he couldn’t disturb anyone with eye contact. Kuja filled the wheelbarrow again, ran back, repeated it again and again.

One of the Burmecians was watching him and kicked the wheelbarrow as Kuja was moving past with a full load. The whole thing tipped over and spilled the rocks everywhere.

“You should watch where you’re going with that,” he said. Kuja bit his lip to refrain from saying anything stupid and just tilted it back up.

“What, not gonna say anything?”

“Sorry,” he offered, hoping it’d be enough. He didn’t need this. He needed to get out so they wouldn’t be upset with him, so they could have their home safe and sound.

“Sorry for what!?”

“For not watching where I was going,” he said quietly. And for many other things, but he wouldn’t dredge those up right now.

“You’re the Angel of Death, aren’t you? Where’s all the pride you had when you were destroying this place!?” The Burmecian kicked him square in the ribs. Kuja cried out and rolled over, curling up by the rubble.

“Gone…” he coughed out.

“What?”

“Gone,” Kuja managed again. He didn’t **cure** the hit. If he showed strength or any ability to fight, would this get worse? It had before with Garland.

“Gone, huh? Good. You’re worthless.” Another kick and scorching pain, and then another kick that cracked a rib. Kuja curled up over himself, put his arms over his head to protect what he could, didn’t stop it for a moment. How could he? No one had stopped him before. He owed them this much.

Another kick, a second person joined in. He curled up tighter. Someone’s foot connected with his nose and he shrieked in pain. Blood leaked out.

“Hah? This is the guy who made Alexandria attack us? What a wimp!”

“Why aren’t you fighting back?”

“Not so powerful now, huh?”

Kuja focused on his breathing and what he could manage with his ribs on fire and bruising his insides. It hurt to breathe. The kicks rained down still.

“What is going on here!?” He recognized Freya’s voice, but didn’t come out of his ball.

“We’re teaching him a lesson!”

“I think you’ve taught him enough.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually _defending_ this guy?”

“No, but he’s under Alexandria’s protection so we can’t do much to him,” Freya said. Kuja realized how much she had to be hurting to house him. He needed to leave.

“Seriously? Why is the Queen of Alexandria going that far?”

“Because she’s putting faith in her husband’s words.”

Zidane? Zidane was protecting him? Why!? Kuja shut his eyes and tried to hold back a sob. There was too much pain between trying not to and actually sobbing to be able to, but still the tears threatened to flow with a burst from his chest.

“What is there to gain from this!? Harboring the world’s number one enemy? He’s the one who killed our people! He destroyed our homes!”

“I know.” Freya shooed them away from Kuja and knelt down. Kuja looked up at her only then. She stilled seeing his eyes. Once filled with self-importance and glistening with purpose and power, there was… nothing. Nothing but a shell.

“I want you to explain this later. Cast **cure** and get up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, voice a whisper. His magic focused on his ribs first, then other areas that hurt. When he felt he could stand, he did, and got back to putting the rubble back in the wheelbarrow.

“What are you doing?” Freya asked.

“This still needs to be taken out,” he said quietly. Freya sighed and helped him with it, then took over on pushing the wheelbarrow when he nearly collapsed on top of it.

“You don’t make any sense,” she said. Kuja said nothing until they got outside the walls of the city. He looked outward toward the wilderness and the desert beyond.

“I…” He should leave. He needed to leave. Freya looked up to where he was looking.

  
“If you’re planning on running, I’ll drag you back. After everything those two did for my home, I owe Queen Garnet and Zidane a lot.”

“Enough to house your most hated enemy?”

“Yeah. Barely.”

_I’m useless to this world._

_No one is useless._

Kuja breathed deeply and turned to face Freya. “Freya?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to be useless to this world anymore. No matter what it is, give me something to do.”

Freya was taken aback, then smirked and took off her hat for a moment to affix him with her gaze. “He said the same thing, that you felt useless. I wonder why? With your power, you could have done anything. And if you really didn’t want to be Garland’s puppet, why keep going along with his schemes?”

“I had nothing else I could do,” Kuja said. “I had to play along because he wouldn’t have allowed his failure to continue if it produced no results.”

“No part of you wanted to?”

“No part of me saw anything wrong with it. Whether Gaians or Terrans, they were all beneath me.”

She put her hat back on. “You really thought so little of us all?”

“I did.”

“And you say that that’s changed, right?”

“Yes. I never knew this world for what it really was. I saw it as ugly and detestable. I… don’t. Not anymore.” Phrasing his thoughts was difficult. He breathed in through his nose and closed his eyes, then opened them. “It took losing my life, but I see how valuable every life is.”

“It would have done a lot of good to realize that sooner.”

“I know. I wish I could change what I did.”

“Why did you let them hurt you? Even if your magic isn’t working well, you could have stopped them.”

“And done what, exactly? Made them fear me again? Made them think the _Angel of Death_ was rising again? What would _I_ have to gain from them being afraid of me?” Kuja spat, then sombered. “Besides, they deserved a chance at me. I owe them that much.” Freya thought a moment, then turned around.

“Fair enough. Why don’t we take a break? You’re not in good condition to work right now.”

“No. There’s more to be done.”  
  


“It’ll be done eventually by people who can manage. Zidane is going to yell at me if I let you continue like this.”

“Let him yell.” Kuja took the wheelbarrow and cast **cure** once more over himself, then moved onward. Freya ringed around and grabbed the front, stopping him in his tracks.

“Let go, please,” Kuja said. Freya shook her head.

“You need to rest. Trust me.” Something in her eyes spoke of danger. He relented.

The wheelbarrow was left where it was as they went through the streets to her home. Kuja felt the stares and hunched over. When Freya looked back, she could only see the husk of the man he once was. She let him through the door and sat him down at the table.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Noon. You look dead.”

“I should be.”

“Enough of that. Corpses are useless to the living except as something to grieve over. There’s nothing of you worth grieving yet, so keep going until there is. Then, when I kill you, maybe someone will cry at your grave.”

“That’s quite the goal you’re setting for me, if you even meant to.”

“Consider it one. You’re not allowed to die until you’ve done something worth remembering.”

“To help people, to do something worth remembering. Anything else?”

“Not from me.” Freya looked into her stores and broke out some bread, as well as some cooked Zhagnol from the ice box. Kuja looked at it curiously.

“What is that?”

“A special invention from Mikoto. She’s been using her time to ‘surreptitiously upgrade Gaia’s technology,’ as she puts it.”

“Too much of a jump in technology could cause people to falter or become confused,” Kuja said. Freya nodded agreement.

“The airships are one thing, but if she started Terra-forming Gaia, I bet there would have been people screaming about too many changes.”

“The ice box is a good step forward. They’d be difficult to produce on a mass scale and she has a testing grounds in you and the others for her things to make sure they work well as they’re slowly spread.”

“Huh.” Freya hummed a bit and warmed the meat over the fire. Kuja watched for a bit before slicing the bread.

“How many bread slices do you want?” he asked, doing his best with the knife. He was pretty sure he could do this.

“One for me.”

Kuja cut two slices off, one for each of them, then got them on plates. Freya poked the meat and decided it was good enough before taking some slices of it off and layering them on the bread.

“I still hate you after all this time and I’ll never understand why you did what you did, but… if Beatrix can do a heel-face-turn, so can you,” Freya said. She bit into her bread. Kuja stopped on the spot as a strange warmth filled him.

“Freya, that… that means a lot. Thank you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I…” He tried not to cry as he worked out what just rose up. “I’ve never had support before.”

“You had Garland.”

“Who molded me only as a weapon. There was no real support, only his expectation of my prowess.”

“Oh.” Freya took a bite and thought that over. “That explains so much.”

“What? How does that explain anything?” Kuja asked. He also took a bite and decided he liked roasted Zhagnol. Had he ever had it before? Maybe. It didn’t seem like a high-end style of cooking it.

“The more we looked back on it, the more you seemed like a child at the end. You were seeking approval all this time, weren’t you?” Freya asked. Kuja scoffed.

“Ridiculous. I was born as an adult. There is nothing childish about me.”

“Save for the part of you that didn’t grow.” When Kuja looked at her with confusion, Freya poked his chest lightly. “Your heart.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Your emotions were stunted because you didn’t live as a child. Your heart never got to develop.”

“...Oh.” That made sense. “So what should I do about that?”

“I couldn’t say,” Freya said. “I suppose you should try to feel things. Do things.”

“Right.”

“After you’re done here, I’ll be dropping you off in Lindblum. Regent Cid said that he had requested your presence. You’ll be under Eiko’s watch, then.”

“When will that happen?”

“When I decide you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

“You’re running away now.”

And Kuja had to admit that she was right. He was running from the things that scared him, wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this eats the last of my buffer chapters so it's time to write like the wind.


End file.
